Judgement Call
by Centroides
Summary: Garrison and Chief must each make a decision. When they do not turn out to be the right ones they are tempted to try to correct their mistakes and end up making it worse. Someone ends up paying the price.
1. Chapter 1

Judgement Call

Chapter 1

"Lieutenant?" said Actor as the Warden came down the stairs.

"He's sleeping though I did get him to drink the tea."

"Good. Goniff will be pleased." He waited for the Officer to pass and head for his office. It was late but Actor had remained waiting. There were two things he wanted to get off his chest so he followed. When they were seated he started.

"With all that has happened I have been remiss. I wish to start with an apology." From the look on his face Garrison was not following him. "I apologize for yelling at you and talking that way to you when I thought you were trying to get rid…"

"It's all right Actor. As I told Chief I stand by my decision to give him a choice, I just went about it badly. He forgave me and told me he wanted to stay. No apology necessary."

"Good. Now the second part. We were wondering what you found out in your debriefing." Unfortunately he suspected that the answer would have to be pried out and he was right. All he got was a blank look.

"Look, Warden. Whoever set us up sent us on a phony mission. They sent you by yourself which you are quite capable of doing but there is a greater risk. Then they sent us with an untrained technician behind enemy lines and he was killed. These missions were phony. They endangered our lives and now Chief is unfit to assist if the next one comes too soon. Someone is responsible and they must be found and stopped; especially if G-CAT is involved."

There was a long pause while the Lieutenant considered Actor's request. Unfortunately they were interrupted by the ringing of his phone. The Officer picked up the receiver and listened. When he put it down Actor knew his chance of finding out who was responsible would be delayed. Lieutenant Garrison stood, grabbed his jacket and his cap and was out the door. He was headed for London.

Actor knew it would take time to travel there and back so they might as well get some sleep. Seeing the hour he might even wait until morning before he returned. He would let the others know.

The sun was up by the time the Lieutenant strode up the steps two at a time, swung around the newel post and headed for the double doors of the room his men were billeted in. Grasping the handle he turned it and pushed. The scene was as he expected; semi chaos. Even at this early hour Actor's cot was made up impeccably; even the pillow was centered, the case smoothed. Casino's was pulled together but the undulations of the blanket meant the sheet underneath was rumpled. Goniff's bed was unmade though he had picked up his pillow. The English born thief slept on his stomach and his pillow usually ended up on the floor. Chief's bed was half made. The sheet and blanket had been pulled up but the edges hung down untucked. Actor sat in his chair, a book in one hand his pipe in the other, as impeccably dressed as his bed was made. Casino, wearing pants and an undershirt sat at the table reading a newspaper. Chief was sitting by the window. Garrison had just opened his mouth to ask when he heard footsteps behind him and Goniff came into the room carrying a plate of toast and a cup of tea.

"You were told, no food in here. You eat in the kitchen."

"I was going to, Warden but I 'eard you come in and I wanted to 'ear what you 'ad to say. Go ahead," he said as he walked to the table and sat. "I'm listening." He picked up the first slice and took a bite.

There was a moment of silence as they watched Goniff and shook their heads in disbelief at his audacity. Within weeks of their moving in and eating in their room they had had a mouse population explosion. The rule, 'no eating in the room' had been strictly enforced especially by the cons who had been disgusted with the presence of mouse turds on their table and on their beds.

The silence was broken by the Guardian who said with determination, "I'm goin' with you."

It surprised the Officer that he had spoken but what he had said was expected. Chief was dedicated; too dedicated. "Not this time. I want you to rest, get back your strength."

"I'm safer with you."

"You nuts?" It was out of Casino's mouth before it registered. Just the thought of flying into a war zone and then jumping out of the plane, being shot at, bombed… as opposed to sitting here. Then he remembered their last mission and turned to their leader. "Hey, you ever find out who set us up? That Grayson's a real bastard." Someone had sent Garrison on a fake mission and then Grayson had sent them on another. The Ultimate purpose was a scheme by G-CAT to test a theory. Chief had said it was a failure and to top it off Casino had a concussion and the Guardian had cracked ribs. What if G-CAT tried again?

Garrison paused. He too had figured out Chief's logic. He might be safer with them unless he had to put up a fight. One blow to his ribs and he was done. They would have to protect him which left the rest vulnerable. Garrison was damned either way.

Chief had it figured out. "Look, Warden. If it comes down to it I'll run. That way you guys can do what you have to and if the worst happens I'll know where you went."

As ambiguous as that sounded they knew what he meant. 'If they were captured.'

Garrison knew that if he asked the answer would be 'Fine', just as he would answer if the tables were turned so instead he instructed the Guardian to take a deep breath. He watched as the Guardian inhaled carefully without a flinch. From experience Craig knew it had to hurt; the fractures had not had time to heal. He had to hand it to him, the kid was tough. It would not be until later that he would wonder why G-CAT said Guardians were fragile.

"All right, you go with us." He paused and locked eyes with the injured man, "but you stay back behind us. If there's any chance of you getting hurt then you hide. You Got That?" He was gratified to see that Chief did not look away. He was taking this seriously. Seeing the nod, Garrison looked to each of the others. It would do no good if any of them resented this special treatment. The others had been watching Chief too, intent on his reaction. They were all in agreement.

Chief felt relief. He had worried about what was going to happen. If G-CAT came for him he could run. The security here at their base was laughable. Even Actor could leave whenever he wanted, if he wanted. Seeing as those bastards had the Army in their pocket the Trainers could walk in here anytime. His only fear was if they decided to sneak in and grab him. Being on alert at all times was tiring. He could do it for a while, he had done it too, but sooner or later he would get too tired and he would sleep.

Fortunately he had been able to convince Garrison to take him. That was the other part. Garrison was his Hearth. He had to stay with his Hearth. He might need him. Funny how that felt. He hadn't needed anyone for as long as he could remember. To need something was a weakness but this need was different. This felt good. Thinking back, he had been searching for something for a long time. Now he had found, found his Hearth.

"Everyone downstairs, my office."

Normally they dawdled or grumbled but for some reason the settling of Chief's inclusion had put that aside. Maybe it was all a matter of resisting authority. They had to show Garrison that they were doing this because they had to not because they wanted to. Chief had put up the show of resistance and had won. They rose as one and followed their leader.

Craig spread the map on the table. "This is Brussels," he said as he pointed to a section of the map before looking to their European con man. The silent question was if he was familiar with the area. The answer was a small shake of his head. Back to the map he continued. "There are a number of localized Resistance groups that operate in the country. Working with the Belgium Government in exile here in London we are to take some equipment to a group called the General Sabotage Group of Belgium, or Groupe G and help train them to it."

"What sort of stuff? Guns, ammo, bombs…" asked Casino, their resident explosive expert.

"Yes." He looked around but there were no more questions so he continued. "We go in by sub in," he checked his watch and was pleased that he had made good time from London, "Four and a half hours. They'll drop us off the coast, we'll paddle in to the breakwater where a fishing boat will pick us up and take us into the harbour. The equipment will have to be hidden on the boat and removed after dark. From there our contact should be able to get us inland to our target. Questions?" There weren't any so he added, "Out front, twenty minutes."

There were some comments about warm clothes and coats as they left the room but they did as they were instructed.

The calendar said it was almost Spring but the day had dawned cold and rainy so they waited inside until their transport arrived. The cons climbed in back and their leader rode shotgun. When they arrived at the Naval Base Garrison was greeted with bad news. He went around to the back where the men were waiting. "Stay where you are. Our supplies haven't arrived and the sub can't wait so an alternate route will have to be found. We may have to jump.

"Just great," muttered Casino.

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to the Air Base. When they arrived they were directed to the Mess where they could sit until a plane was readied. Bombers were scheduled to take off so they had to wait their turn. They walked in and headed for the unoccupied table at the far end after filing past the coffee urn. The brew was hot and strong.

Four soldiers, ground crew from the looks of them, came in and sat at the next table. Because of the men's past and present occupation they had learned to be ever alert so they heard the grumbles about civilians on the base. Garrison told them to ignore them. That was easy but then the conversation turned to Guardians. Their experience also taught them to not react immediately though Casino and Goniff's eyes wandered toward their own Guardian who had chosen a seat at the table across the aisle. His only reaction, if you knew him well enough to catch it, was a narrowing of his eyes just before he looked down at his coffee and took a sip. His eyes remained on the table but they knew he was listening. Garrison and Actor, who sat facing the newcomers, same as Chief, casually looked them over assessing the threat.

"My old man brought one home one night," said the dark haired Corporal. He appeared to be the leader of the group. "My mom was pissed, said she didn't want it in the house. She made my old man put it in the garage. He told me to give it some water so me and my brother took out a full pail of water and made it drink it." The speaker snorted with laughter anticipating the punch line. "It was hilarious. It took a drink and then when it stopped we told it to keep drinking until it was all gone." His voice broke with barely suppressed glee. "It took a few minutes and then it pissed its pants." He laughed uproariously and the other three joined in. When he got himself under control he continued. "Then we took turns beating it with a broom." They were all laughing. "They're so stupid they'll do anything you tell it. It just knelt there crying."

Actor, who was closest to the aisle, started to get up but Goniff reached over the table and grabbed his arm. "Allow me, mate." He was going to insist but the Englishman was already up. He waited, his anger barely in check.

"'ey, you know about Guardians?" asked the Englishman as he sat down beside the soldiers. This was the friendly Goniff who got along with everybody.

"Yeah," said the raconteur. "My old man's a Handler. He promised to get me into the training program when the war's over. He's shown me some of the commands already."

"That's great. Wish I 'ad that kind of chance. What I was wondering is, is there any chance that your old man could get me a Guardian?" he asked eagerly.

"No way. They're too valuable to risk getting killed. Besides, they're too stupid. They'd walk right up to the enemy and wait to be shot. And if they did give'm to the Army, they'd go to high ranking officers not civilians," he added the last part disparagingly.

"Speaking of civilians," said one of the other soldiers, this one blonde and blue eyed like Goniff. "What're you doing here? I thought this was for soldiers only."

"I work for the Army. I 'ad a little misunderstanding with a Bobby a few years back," he said with a trace of embarrassment. "They won't let me enlist but a well-placed Officer gave me a job in procurement."

"In what?" asked the third, a timid looking man who looked too young to be there.

"Procurement. It means 'e tells me what 'e wants and I procure it for 'im."

"You steal stuff like the black market," stated the Corporal with a hint of anger.

"No, though I did steal something that the black marketeers stole in the first place. I just stole it back."

"So who do you work for?" They were still suspicious.

"Oh, I can't tell you that. That's between me and the Ge… I mean between me and 'im."

"You work for General Cartier?" was the awed response.

"I didn't say that," said Goniff with a guilty smile.

"How about you procure something for us? How about a bottle of whiskey?"

"Each."

"Now wait a bloody minute 'ere." He paused to consider then brightened. "Any of you know a bloke named 'Ayden?"

"Aiden? Is he assigned to this base?"

"Not Aiden, Hayden," he said breathing out to emphasize the sound, "with an aich."

"Oh, Hayden. No I don't think I do. He's not flight crew is he?"

"No I don't think so. 'Ey's with G-CAT. That's why I thought you might know 'im, your old man being a Trainer and all."

"Handler. My old man's a Handler. So why you looking for this Hayden?"

"We 'ad a deal. I got 'is money, now I'm waiting for me goods. Me boss's not a patient man."

"If we find Hayden, you give us each a bottle of whiskey?" suggested the youngest man.

Goniff considered the deal. "If you find him, I'll give you each a bottle. If you can't find 'im then 'ooever find out 'oo 'e works for then 'e gets a bottle. We got a deal?"

"Is Danny still in the hospital? He might know," suggested one of the other soldiers.

"Worth an ask. We'll be back. You going to be here long?" asked the Corporal as he stood.

Directing his inquiry to the man they called the Warden he said, "You know anyone 'ere to leave a message with?"

Garrison asked for pen and paper and he wrote a phone number on it. "Leave a message of where to call you. Don't say what it's about, just your name and your number. We'll be back."

"Deal." They shook hands and left quickly.

Goniff returned to his friends amid looks of astonishment.

"I am impressed," said Actor as he dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"You better watch out Actor, the Limey's got a hidden talent." Casino enjoyed razzing the confidence man.

"Let's hope they hit pay dirt before we have to leave," warned Garrison.

"We can't leave now Warden. Not when we this close to finding out who set Chiefy up."

"Maybe it's that Grayson asshole. If it is then I'm gonna shoot him up with some of that compliance juice and watch him squirm." Casino grinned an evil grin.

"How are you going to know if they are telling the truth?" asked Actor. "They could come back and tell you anybody."

"I came up with this part," said Goniff. "Now it's up to you two to figure that out. What? You want me to do all of it?" He asked with mock indignity.

"They supply the name, we check him out, then they get their bottle."

"Do you know anyone you can trust here on the base?" asked Actor as he turned to their leader.

Garrison considered for a moment then said, "Yeah. There's a Major I'd trust with a bottle."

"See," said Goniff. "I knew you'd figure it out." He looked pleased with himself until he looked over to Chief. He sat there burning. No one knew what to say. They could not imagine having to sit there and hear such cruelty. Their anger returned.

"Can we spike that bottle with a little compliance juice too?"

The response was several evil smiles. Chief continued to sit hunched over his coffee, head down.

Garrison stood. "I better go see the Major. Chief?" He glanced in his direction expecting him to follow but he remained unmoving. "Chief," he said quietly. "You don't need to be here if they return. Let's go." The Guardian stood but he avoided everyone's eyes. He did not want anyone to see his shame.

The trip to the Major's Office was accomplished in silence, the Officer in the lead, his friend at his shoulder but a step back. It was the position of a trained Guardian. Garrison wanted to call him forward but did not want to embarrass him any further. In his present mindset he would take it as a criticism. They walked on.

The Lieutenant knew Major Sean O'Connor from West Point. They had both played football and had attended many of the same games. He had lost touch with him when he had graduated but while waiting for their flight on a previous mission he had run into him again. Though it emphasized his own lack of advancement he was pleased for Sean. He was a good Officer.

Fortunately he was in his office so they quickly caught up with home news then, leaving out the Guardian details, Craig told Sean about trying to locate who Hayden had worked for and the deal they had struck with the soldiers. Sean, hearing that Craig was with OSS, knew not to ask too many questions but he readily agreed to hold a bottle of whisky for the four soldiers. Craig gave him enough money to purchase the bribe and they were on their way.

Back at the Mess they went to sit with the rest of the team. There was no word from the other soldiers. Craig was tempted to tell them to stay while he checked on their flight but they had sat there long enough. Time to move.

All together they headed for the airfield and the tower. They waiting at the gate as Craig checked to see if they were scheduled to leave soon. He was back within minutes. "Let's go," was all he said as he strode off. A jeep came racing up from the car pool and squealed to a halt beside the men. They jumped in and the driver took off as his fare hung on for dear life.

As the jeep took them down the road, they watched to see which plane was theirs. There were a few parked along the side of the tarmac but the driver passed them without slowing. Finally they saw a plane being brought out of a small hanger at the end of the strip. As they neared they saw it was not coming out of but rather coming from behind. The jeep pulled up and stopped beside the plane. Garrison got out but the cons just sat looking with disbelief. It was a Boeing 247 but it looked like it had just barely survived whatever its last sortie had been. There were bullet holes in the fuselage and it looked like the strut on the front landing gear had been reinforced. Worst of all was the black soot that covered the right engine cowling. It had caught fire not that long ago.

"We're not flying in that, Warden. You gotta be outta your mind. Things a death trap." Casino could be counted on to speak what they were, obviously all thinking.

The door opened and a man jumped down. He was wearing pilots' wings.

"Don't you sell 'er short, mate," said the Australian. "The old gals still got lots a life left in 'er. Come on board. Still got 'er original cushioned seats though we 'ad to give up our stewardess."

"Have our supplies arrived?" asked Garrison.

"I think that's them there," and he gestured to a truck that was heading in their direction.

With a quick look to his men, still sitting in the jeep, he said "Move." He then stood waiting for the truck and their equipment. Reluctantly they disembarked from the safety of the jeep and waited to board the plane. When their supplies arrived the cons each grabbed a parachute and put it on before boarding the plane. Garrison and the pilot stowed the crate onboard. It was true, the seats were cushioned and they could not see any holes from the inside but they knew they were there. They chose the middle seats with Garrison sitting behind the co-pilot's seat. The door was closed and locked and the pilot went up to the cockpit where they could see him doing what he had to with the instruments. The engines were started and they sounded all right, a little rough maybe but they were running on all cylinders though it was a little disconcerting to see the co-pilot tapping one of the gauges. Maybe it would even out once they warmed up. They hoped so.

Finally the pilot leaned around and yelled to buckle up. There was no need, they had already done so. The taxi out was a little rough but finally they stopped while the pilot spoke with the tower. Then the engines revved and they began to move. The takeoff run seemed to be very long and just when Garrison expected an abort the nose rose and finally the tail left the ground. Only the two soldiers saw how close they had come to hitting the trees at the end of the runway but they were air-born.

To get on course a steep bank was required which unnerved the anxious flyer.

"Wish we'd been on that sub," ground out Casino.

"No you don't," answered Garrison.

"Whata you mean. I hate this."

"The sub was torpedoed."

"What?" The shock over rode his fear. "Are they…"

"All I hear was that they were under attack."

"Shit."

Finally the plane levelled out and followed its course for Belgium. As they crossed the water the plane gained altitude. The plan was to fly high over the coast to avoid the eighty-eights but the starboard engine began to cough and sputter. Casino was on the other side of the plane so he did not notice at first but when he realized the difference he got up to look. Staring out the window as he moved he forgot about the main wing spar that ran through the cabin and if he hadn't been holding the backs of the seats he would have fallen over it.

"Fuckin' engines quit," he shouted in panic. He turned to yell to the pilot and tripped over the spar again further adding to his aggravated state.

Garrison quickly unbuckled and stood grabbing the safecracker. "He knows! Now sit down!"

"But the engine…"

"This plane can fly on one just not as fast or as high."

"Just great. Anyone tell the Jerries to shoot slower?"

Trying to relax in an airplane while wearing a parachute was not easy, being worse when you knew that only one engine was working. Casino was too upset to realize that even worse would be to be sitting on this plane with no parachute. The pilot tried to climb but with only half the horsepower he was limited. Off in the distance in the gathering dusk they could see the results of the last bombing run.

As they neared the coast the flak started and Garrison got up and moved in closer to each man to remind them about the count before pulling the ripcord. He hoped it would not be necessary but just in case. For a time it looked like they would be all right but the last burst caught the wing with the dead engine and they felt the blow. The damage did not appear that great but it was enough to throw the balance off and the plane began to roll. The pilot and co-pilot worked frantically finally levelling the plane but the overtaxed engine sputtered but then caught. They thought they were safe but with a final puff of black smoke it quit. They were going down.

"Bail Out, Bail Out!"

They headed for the door. Having done this a few times their exit was orderly with the cargo dispatched first and the men following.

There was no static line for the hook up so it was a matter of counting then pulling the release cord. Goniff had no fear of heights so leaping out of a plane held no fear for him but he worried about finding the handle so he grabbed it before jumping. He counted slowly then pulled. Actor had overcome his fear of the unknown with his first con. Jumping out of a plane was easier; at least here he had a parachute. A slow count and he pulled the cord. Casino knew he panicked so he counted twice then pulled.

Lieutenant Garrison had enough experience to qualify as an instructor but still each jump was a thrill. To drift free without a worry or a care was his time of peace; his bit of relaxation before the actual mission. On the ground there were plans to make, plans to follow, contingencies to prepare for. Up here there was nothing he could do but worry and he knew that was unproductive.

Chief loved to fly and this was as close as he was ever going to get to flying. Back when he was younger he liked to sit on the ledge and watch the eagles and condors soaring on huge wings outstretched wings. A slight shift and they turned gaining altitude or sliding off to the side. This was freedom. His count was slow so he could enjoy the feel of the wind.

Goniff was the first to land. Ever the dancer quick on his feet he released the catches freeing himself from the harness as he looked up and around. There was still enough daylight so it was easy to see the other parachutes. Actor was about a hundred yards away heading for a low-lying area. Goniff was concerned for his safety but wondered if he would complain about his shoes if there was water in it. He saw Casino off to his left as he started pulling his chute up into his arms. Drat, the cords were getting tangled in his fingers. He stopped to shake his hands free. A quick look showed him that Garrison was about to land far enough away that he couldn't see him. He started gathering the chute again.

Casino rolled his chute and trotted over to the Englishman. "Here gimme that," and he reached for his friend's chute. "Go get Actor." He trotted over to a rock wall at the edge of the field and began pulling rocks away to make a hiding spot.

Goniff scanned the area, spotted three more chutes descending. Off in the distance he could see what looked like a stump? Actor? He ran as quickly as he could over the rough ground. By watching the ground he managed to miss the worst spots until he approached the con man. A quick look to see if the Italian was badly hurt and he missed the pot hole. His foot did not and he was thrown to the ground.

Actor had landed in what would have been a perfect landing if the ground had been level. It was not. This had been a farmer's field until the artillery had driven their tanks and trucks through to set up the coastal defences. From there the Allies had tried to bomb these same defences. The result was not a level field but ground that had been torn up into ruts and then blasted into craters. Actor had landed in a crater or more accurately slammed into the side of a crater.

Garrison landed and hauled in his chute. On his way down he had noted the positions of his team and the ammunition. They were scattered over a wide area so they were going to have to hurry.

As if on cue gun fire sounded off to the right and he swung around to look. All he could see was the last parachute canopy as it collapsed in the next field behind the stone wall. Who was it? There was nowhere to hide the chute so he dropped it and ran for the wall as he swung his weapon into position. Daylight landings were the most dangerous so they each carried weapons. Crouched behind the wall he peered over and saw the pilot struggling to get out of the harness. He was about to vault over to assist when another burst of machinegun fire erupted and the pilot lurched several timed and fell still. Even from his position he could see the blood. He wanted to check but a jeep appeared filled with German soldiers and they were headed for the downed flyer.

He had a decision to make. If he fired on the jeep he might be able to force them to retreat but there was no way he could get there to check on the wounded man. He also might be dead. If he assumed he was dead and ran to the others they might be able to escape. Another look and he knew it was too late. He could not save the pilot but he could save the others. He ran back the way he had come.

From the air he knew Chief was up ahead between him and the others so he ran on. From off to the side he saw a lump rise and join him. Chief was at his shoulder.

With enough missions behind them they were ready. As The Guardian and his Hearth approached the others were heading for the far corner of the field and the shelter of the few trees that grew there. The bad news was that two of them were supporting the third. No time for that now; they had to run.

Once in the trees they regrouped. Goniff had twisted his ankle and landed heavily on his shoulder. Though obviously in pain, he said nothing. The height disparity between Casino at five eleven and Actor's six foot four made it awkward for Goniff so Garrison took over for the con man. They ran on.

Chief kept up even though each step jarred his ribs and the exertion forced him to take deeper breaths. He also knew that he was a closer match in height to carry Goniff but the thought of having someone that close and touching him made his skin crawl and his stomach heave. He hoped the day never came that he had to do it to save someone's life, especially... Could he do it to save Garrison? He was saved from that thought by a familiar sound.

"Down," was all he had to say and they all dropped. Here crossing the field there was no cover. All they could do was lie low and hope whoever it was would pass by and it looked like it was going to work. The driver of the horse and wagon was looking straight ahead as he made his way down the road that ran less than a hundred yards in front of the men. He passed them but then stopped the horse. It was hard to tell his age but from the way he eased himself down from the driver's seat he was probably elderly. Slowly he made his way up to the horse. Standing beside the animal's front leg he touched it and the beast shifted and raised his hoof. The driver bent and picked up the foot. From his pocket he took a tool and began digging at the foot. As they watched he began whistling a tune as he carefully looked toward the field. He knew they were there and was waiting. This was confirmed when Garrison whistled a few notes. A reply and they were all up and running. The driver put down the horse's hoof, patted his shoulder and returned to the wagon.

"You, American friers?" he asked in heavily accent English.

"Americans, yes. We need your help to get away."

He waved them to climb onboard as he slowly climbed up. He chucked to the horse and flipped the reins. They were underway. Within thirty yards the driver turned the horse and wagon down a narrow dirt lane that ran between two stone walls.

Another 'down' saw them flatten as a military truck rumbled down the road they had just left. All they could do was hope that if anyone was looking down the lane all they saw was the driver.

It did not take long for the farm to appear. The house was ancient as was the small barn that stood behind it. The horse was home and she headed straight for the barn. Garrison hopped down and opened the door. The horse walked in and stopped.

Once the horse was taken care of the farmer gestured to the loft. "You stay; I bring fool, eh," he paused to think, "food. I bring food. You rest now."

"Merci," said Actor.

That brought a smile and a flood of words. There were gestures as the three men talked. Garrison explained and the farmer frowned and then apologized and pleaded. The three English speaker stood waiting. Finally he left.

"What's going on?" asked Casino.

"Our host, Monsieur Verhoeven," started Garrison, "is a part of the underground that smuggles downed airmen to Gibraltar and from there to England. He thought we were airmen."

"'E called us American friers," interjected Goniff.

"His English is not very good," explained Actor.

"Fliers, friers, close," said Casino with a grin. "So what's the problem? He seemed upset when he left."

"I told him we were here to harass the Germans," put in the Officer. "He fears the Germans. His sons were killed in retaliation for a train derailment that was blamed on the civilians. He worries that more civilians will be shot because of what we do. He worries about his wife and who will help the other airmen."

"So what're we going to do? If you haven't noticed, we lost our bang back there."

"I know, Casino, I know." They headed to the loft.

Once they were there Garrison turned to survey the area. Chief had immediately gone to the door at the end. It was closed but he had released the latch and opened it a crack so he could see out. Goniff's injury was his first concern. Actor was removing the Englishman's boot and even being careful he had elicited a gasp as it slipped off. The ankle was swollen, probably sprained. Hopefully nothing was broken.

"We will need cold water and something to wrap it," said Actor.

"There's a well over there. Want me to get the water?" asked Chief quietly.

"Casino."

"I can get a pail of water," he replied with a touch of anger.

Garrison realized that he was right. He could not allow him to come and then prevent him from doing something as ordinary as fetch some water. He changed tactics and said with all innocence as he turned to the Indian, "I was going to tell Casino to take the watch." He felt that twinge of guilt when he saw the look of embarrassment on Chief's face. On the other hand he could not allow an injured man to dictate to him either. He gave him a smile to ease his discomfort and a ghost of a smile was returned. He waited until Casino moved to the loft door before he headed down to the well.

Chief looked out from the door before he entered the yard. The big old draft horse had been put out in the paddock and now stood, eyes closed, by the rail. An occasional tail flick was the only motion. As much as he liked the peaceful scene he needed water so with another look he headed to the well. As he neared the house he listened and heard voices, the old man's and a woman's. There were smells as well, good smells. Coffee, real coffee and vegetables simmering. His mouth watered as he grasped the pump handle. The bucket was old but sturdy so he filled it half full as he watched around him. With the house to one side, the barn behind him and the horse standing in the paddock, it was a peaceful spot. Though the weather was still cold and damp he imagined this on a summer day. He inhaled the smell of hot food mixed with the smell of earth and horse manure; the smell of a real farm, the smell of peace and contentment. If he had a choice this was where he would stay. A far back secret corner of his mind imagined coming back here after the war and asking if he could stay with them and work for them. It was a stupid dream which was why it was filed so far back that no one would ever see it, not even Garrison. The pail was filled so he slammed the door on his foolish dreams and headed back to the barn. As he reached for the loft ladder he heard the farmer coming. He had food.

The farmer was true to his word. He brought a pot of stew and bowls. Garrison asked about first aid supplies and he obliged. They were set except for their mission.

"I say we just sit out here for a week or two," suggested Casino as he wiped the bowl with the last scrap of bread and then popped it into his mouth.

"Me too," said Chief causing all other eyes to zero onto him.

"You would like to live on a farm?" asked Actor casually.

He hadn't meant to say it out loud but here it was. He looked from face to face to see if anyone was laughing at him. Actor looked seriously interested but then he was a con man. Garrison was watching, face neutral. Goniff was looking at him with an odd look like he couldn't understand why and Casino was surprised. Why surprised?

Casino turned to Goniff and said with a grin, "Mark that down, Chief just agreed with me, halleluiah." Goniff played right along, taking out an imaginary pencil, touching the tip to his tongue and wrote on an imaginary paper on his hand. Actor grinned but continued to watch. His question had not been answered. Garrison turned back to his map.

Chief had survived that one. He returned to his place at the loft door.

"Are we far from our target?" asked Actor coming over to where his leader was standing.

"Yes. I was hoping to get closer to Torhout. About thirty kilometers."

"Seeing as we have, as Casino put it, lost our 'bang', what do you propose to do?"

Casino chortled. "Can't you just see the wheels going round? Gotta find something to blow up, steal, con… Maybe we better find something before he goes crazy." Garrison ignored him but Actor's mouth twitched in amusement.

"This guy is scared of retaliation so how be we move somewhere else if you have to do something, like, say England."

"Yeah," chimed in Goniff. "I gotta go back and get a Doctor to look at me foot. Let's go back 'ome."

"How about it?" The safecracker waited then said with a lack of enthusiasm, "Didn't think so. So what now?"

"We were to meet in Torhout. Best way to get there?"

"I shall go have a talk with Monsieur." Actor headed for the door. When he returned he did not look happy. "He was willing but I am afraid he could not help. There is no fuel to be had for a vehicle and there are passenger trains twice a month. The Germans use the trains for troops and munitions. And before you ask he does not know the schedule or when any munitions will be moving in the area."

"That's it then, let's go 'ome," said Goniff.

Garrison said nothing but he folded up his map.

"He did offer to take us to the next stop on the Réseau Comète, the escape route to Spain and Gibraltar," offered the conman. From his tone they knew there was a 'but' coming. "He did say that five was too many altogether. We would have to split up." It was not that they had never split up before, they just preferred to remain together to help each other and to be sure they were all safe.

"You have a contact in Holland," suggested Actor.

"And that guy in France," added Casino.

"Yes, we could go with our host as far as France and then make our way to Duchamp's unless you have other contacts."

"Stay here." Garrison picked up his map and left.

"Do ya think he bought it? Are we on our way 'ome?"

"Too easy. Five'll get you ten he's gone to find another target."

No one took the bet; they all agreed with him.

Garrison returned. "He'll get us Belgian papers so we can travel and then take us to someone who might be able to help."

"When do we leave?" asked Actor eyeing the accommodations.

"He has to make arrangements so tomorrow or the next day."

"Might as well get comfortable, Actor. You're going to be here for a while," said Casino as he sat back in the hay.

"Least no one is shooting at us," added Goniff who had his foot up on a bale of hay. He looked comfortable or as comfortable as a man can with a sprained ankle.

Early morning, two days later and it was time to go. Each man carried forged identity papers that had been delivered during the night. After a light meal they had all headed for the wagon when Garrison had asked if anyone had checked to make sure nothing had been left behind to incriminate their host. Chief had volunteered and when it had looked like he was going to get an argument Chief had taken off back to the loft.

One last good look and then Chief made his way down the ladder just as the farmer brought the big horse through the barn to hitch her to the wagon. She was a beautiful rich reddish brown with a light colored mane and tail. Just watching her walk Chief couldn't help admiring the strength and power. He wanted to watch so he stood along the wall to let the pair pass. That way he could watch the animal move.

As they drew alongside in the aisle the animal swished her tail hitting the broom handle. It fell clattering on the cement floor and the horse sidestepped as she turned to look over her shoulder. The sudden sidestep swung the giant's belly pinning him against the wall. It was only for a second until the horse took another step and turned back but it was enough to compress his already injured ribs. It was so unexpected that he did not have time or breathe to call out. All that came out was a gasp.

All the farmer heard was the sound of the horseshoes on the cement and the horse nickering question about the noise behind him. He was further distracted by the massive head that swung around almost hitting him.

With the horse's next step the pressure was gone and Chief's compressed ribs rebounded. Pain followed by more pain. All he could do was brace his legs and try to remain on his feet. The inability to breath and the fire in his chest caused his knees to give out and after several heartbeats he slid down the wall.

There was nothing but pain; his vision faded and the sounds inside the barn receded. Nothing but pain. Something told him to breath. It was going to hurt but he had to breathe. He started with tiny breaths fast and shallow and his hearing began to return. The horse was outside and it was quiet in here. Slowly his vision returned. He tried deepening his breathing and he was finally able to get his feet under him but it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Judgement Call

Chapter 2

Garrison appeared at the door, paused just for a second then came running to Chief's side.

"Chief, what happened? Are you all right?"

Still concentrating on breathing all Chief could do was nod.

Garrison's hand and arm was under his shoulders. "Can you stand? Do you need help?"

All Chief wanted was to be left alone. He hated when anyone saw him in less than perfect condition. As a child he had been picked on so he had learned to appear tough at all times. He had thought that when he grew up it would be better but it just got worse. Here he was sitting on the floor and Garrison saw him. He wanted to push him away. He wanted to deny the pain but he couldn't quite manage it. Without further response Garrison helped him to his feet. Chief quickly pushed himself away. He swayed but managed to remain standing.

"I'm fine," he gritted out between clenched teeth. He had to be strong. He couldn't let Garrison know he was hurting. Their leader didn't want to take him along in the first place; he couldn't prove him right. He would show Garrison he was strong enough to be here.

The Officer had feared something would happen and he had been right. They hadn't even met the enemy and the Guardian was injured already; re injured already. Damn. There was nothing they, nothing he, could do right now except…

"Pull up your shirt."

"Why?" The tone was an exact copy of Casino's belligerence which somewhat surprised Garrison. Then it angered him. The only reason he would fight him was if he was hiding something.

"Do it now or do I have to make you?" He could match belligerence with force of will or physical force if necessary. His tone said he was prepared for either.

Chief had to stop him. He didn't want to have to explain but what was he to do? Divert.

"We have to get going. This can wait."

"No. It can't. Now lift your shirt."

Chief remembered the face off with Wheeler. Garrison was fast. Uninjured he didn't have much of a chance but he was hurt. All Garrison had to do was hit him once and it was game over. He had to do it whether he liked it or not. Slowly he reached down and grabbed his shirt just above his belt and pulled, or tried to pull. To do that he had to brace his abdominal muscles and that pulled on his ribs. He paused to consider.

Garrison saw the attempt and the lack of result. Forgetting the injury he pushed aside the jacket, grabbed the sweater and pulled. Chief tried to deflect him and without thought the combat trained officer's other arm came up and his forearm was against Chief's throat.

Chief was surprised that it had happened but on the other hand not surprised that Garrison had done it. The man was fast and he was dangerous. He was also not to be disobeyed. He stood still and his hands dropped to his sides.

With his forearm over the Guardian's throat he glared at him letting him know he was in charge; stay where you are and you won't get hurt. Dominance established Garrison looked down to the man's chest.

Chief's chest was bare, at least of hair; bruises were another matter. With their days off between missions the vivid colors had muted to yellows and browns.

Seeing the bare chest exposed, Garrison growled, "Where's the bandages? You were supposed to keep your ribs wrapped." All he had wanted to do was check to see if the wrapping was tight enough that maybe what had happened in the barn had not caused any more damage. The bandages had not been able to help because they were not there. Chief's answer did not help ease his anger.

"I took'm off." The Guardian had acquiesced to the physical invasion but his tone said he was not going to back down on this. It was his body. He wasn't drugged so he could do as he wanted and he had wanted them off.

"Why?" It wasn't a question but a demand though there was a trace of exasperation.

"I couldn't breathe," he snarled back. The arm at his throat was getting to him. He felt his anger rise. It was only the fact that it was his Hearth standing there that slowed his building rage but a part of his mind started to blur the lines between Handler and Hearth.

"They were there to support your ribs; help protect them from something like that," and he gestured back to the barn.

"Ain't nothin' gonna protect you from that," and his eyes flicked to the other side where the farmer was hooking up the last of the harness. "Sides, I'm fine."

Garrison glared. Something was not quite right but he was not sure what it was. This was not the time to be indecisive. He had to maintain his authority.

Chief wanted this over. He wanted that arm away from his neck. With it there he could almost feel the collar. He had to get the Hand… Hearth to relax so he said the only thing he could think of.

"She just knocked the wind outta me."

Garrison heard the words. The defiance was gone and his voice sounded steady so he released him and said, "Get on the wagon; I'll deal with you later." He watched as he circled around and climbed up on the very back.

Goniff had watched the altercation and as usual was curious.

"'Ey Chiefy, what 'appened? You all right, mate?"

It wasn't Goniff's fault but with his emotions in turmoil Chief did not want to talk. Besides, pulling himself up on the wagon had put stress on his ribs. All he wanted was to be left alone so he glared, projecting his anger. The others took the hint and turned back to the front where their leader was waiting for Monsieur Verhoeven to take his seat before joining him on the bench.

Chief thought about what had happened. Those feelings of fear, feelings of dread, and the feel of the collar were still with him. Had he been mistaken about his Hearth? He had felt him on that last mission and that said Hearth, but maybe the drugs never left your system and he was mixing up Handler and Hearth? How was he to be sure? This doubt was unsettling.

The farmer chucked to his horse and flipped the reins as Garrison sat watching ever alert. Their host had explained that if they were stopped that he would say he and some neighbours were out collecting firewood. The only fear was that any ranking enemy soldier seeing five able bodied civilians might detain them as conscripts or mark them for forced labour camps. The solution was to split up with the farmer making several trips but Garrison had decided to take the risk. They had been out of contact for four days already and Groupe G had probably notified London that they had not arrived. Rescue operations for covert teams were a rarity because their jobs were such high risk but London might send a replacement team after waiting to see if they might show up. He had to let London know what happened.

As the giant horse plodded along he listened. Actor had struck up a conversation with the driver so he and the conman traded places. The officer settled in and looked at his men. For a group of men with such non-military backgrounds they were working out well. Actor, the multilingual con man, the one most at risk to take off on his own had shown no signs of leaving. Instead he seemed to have ensconced himself as the leader of the cons, his second in command. This was not something he had planned on but it was a bonus, taking some of the pressure off him. Instead of dealing with five cons of differing temperaments he was dealing with one of a similar temperament as his own. For now he trusted him with details of the missions but with personal detail; that would take time. He had rarely gotten close to people he worked with in the military.

Casino, who was sitting across from him, was a hothead, a loose cannon. He could mouth off at a moment's notice. He paused to consider this. That wasn't quite right. No, he was a loose cannon but he had a reason. He was not a hot head but the polar opposite of a 'yes' man. He took an idea and dissected it looking for problems and he voiced them. He was pessimistic, to say the least but he was not a 'yes' man. That was good. Some of his prodding had brought up potential problems and they had been dealt with before they became a deadly reality. His negative picking sometimes drove him to despair but his critical thinking was a bonus. He was a good man to have on the team.

The opposite of the pessimist was the optimist, Goniff, who was sitting with his back to the driver with his leg propped up on his other foot. He did not look comfortable; his ankle was probably aching. In spite of the pain he was watching. This watchfulness was like Chief's but in his case he thought it was more a matter of looking for opportunities and it was not just an opportunity to steal. He had a penchant for practical jokes as well. The time the Sargent Major's boots disappeared was most likely Goniff's doing. The interesting part of the man was his ability to pull others in on his pranks. The time he had to bail them out of jail after Casino got caught with the Judge's wig was the Englishman's idea of fun. Casino had gone right along with him. For some reason he had not picked that plan apart to see the weakness. He trusted Goniff to hold up his end of the bargain. Trust. Goniff could come across so innocent that you had to believe him like back in the Mess with those soldiers. Goniff was a con man in his own right. Fortunately Goniff had realized that trying to con him was a bad idea, still it paid to be on your toes when dealing with the quick thinking pickpocket and second story man.

That left the Guardian sitting by himself right on the far back corner of the wagon. He had reinjured himself, again. Why? Why did he seem to take his personal safety so lightly? Did he have a death wish? Is that why he took such risks? Why did he go back to the loft? Climbing up and down that ladder was risky for someone with injured ribs. He had obviously missed the last step and landed heavily hurting himself. And even this mission. He did not have to come with them. His reasoning for not remaining on their base was sound but he could have found him somewhere to hide out until…

The realization hit him. Why hadn't he thought of that back when the decision was being made? It was his decision to allow an injured man to come with them, not Chief's. The Guardian had demanded but he could have said no. Chief had fractured ribs. He should have remained in England and not forced to jump out of an airplane over enemy territory. The plan had started with a marine approach but when that was changed he still could have left Chief on the base. Major O'Connor would have made sure he was taken care of. Chief would have been mad but his decisions were to be made based on need not hurt feelings.

He shouldn't care, well, yes he should care, Chief was a human being, but as a soldier in command, he should care more about the mission and how best to achieve the desired result. He should not be jeopardizing another soldier, another human being, just so they did not get mad at him.

Or was it because he wanted him nearby? Is that what he had done?

And why did he want him nearby? Was it for his abilities? They would not have needed them this trip even if they had not been shot down; there was no need.

What was wrong with him? He was a West Point Graduate, an Officer trained to make the hard decisions, the right decisions. He was going to have to reassess his feelings and his decision making skills. This was going to get someone killed.

It was a long slow ride to the next stop. Finally the farmer pulled the horse over beside a wood lot and the men disembarked. Their host pointed off in the direction they were to take and they set off. Garrison and Casino each took an arm and they assisted the Englishman. As they continued the trees grew closer together and their task became more difficult. Chief in the lead watched for a stick to use as a cane but the forest floor had been picked clean. There were also signs of fresh wood cutting. The winter had been long and cold and it was not over yet. The trees began to thin as they approached the other side and they could see the field and a house and barn in the distance. That was their next stop.

This stop was closer to town and thus a greater chance of being found so Garrison waited until the coast looked to be clear before making his way up to the house. As he peered around the corner his heart stopped and he pulled back around and began making his way back to the far side of the house. In the driveway was a car bearing the German Generals insignia. The American was considering returning to the trees. There was a distinct possibility their next host had been arrested, or, and his heart sank, turned. Damn.

He watched the car back out onto the road but he could not see how many were in the car. He waited, considering his next move. If this was not a secure location then Monsieur Verhoeven needed to be informed that he could no longer bring the airmen here but would have to find another host. With his latest revelation against his decision making skills he was considering this one carefully but no matter which way he looked at it he was going to have to return to their previous host. Too many lives were at stake.

He was about to make the dash to the trees when he heard the side door open. Someone was coming out. He waited then approached the corner. He had to know. In spite of his perilous circumstances he almost smiled. The figure that stepped out onto the porch could have been his mother. He remembered seeing his Mother, her hair tied up in a kerchief, bringing out the old wash tub with the wet clothes and hanging them on the line. In the middle of a war clothes still had to be washed and dried. The one difference was this woman's left arm was wrapped in bandages. He wondered how she had been injured.

The door opened again and he heard a male voice castigated her for not waiting. When he looked again he saw a man approach and begin helping her with the wash. She handed him the clothes and he pinned them on the line. It was good to see a domestic scene like that with men being civil instead of trying to kill one another though he had to laugh when she told him he was doing it wrong. As he watched he heard the man complaining. The woman told him quietly that she understood and that she did not blame him. Her words had a calming effect on the man and on Garrison. It was out of the question that they had staged this for his benefit.

Seeing the line as a good cover he approached slowly.

"Bonjour," he said softly so as not to startle the couple.

"Bonjour, allo. You are the Americans?" asked the man in accented English.

"Yes."

"You are alone?" he asked anxiously.

"No. The others are waiting."

"Bon. Good. It is safe now. The German has gone. I had to tend to his mistress but I had no choice," he added apologetically. He looked to the woman who must have been his wife. There was concern in his eyes. "She says she understands but…"

"If you hadn't he would think you were with the Resistance and you would have been killed," supplied the American.

"It is not for me. My death means nothing but I would not leave her alone. She would carry on our work but…"

"We understand. Sometimes you have to go against your principles for the greater good. You help one German so you may live to help hundreds of Allies. You made the right decision."

He thought about what he had heard then nodded. "You can call me Noah and my wife, Clara. Bring your friends. Unfortunately you will have to wait in the work shed over there. The barn is not safe right now."

"Thank you," said Garrison and he turned and headed to the back of the house where he knew the others were waiting for the signal.

They were quickly taken to the small outbuilding where old farm equipment was stored. It was cramped and smelled of machinery and rust but there was a place for several men to sleep on and under the wagon.

"It is not much but it is the best I can do. One of the last men had what I suspect was Typhus. I do not wish to expose you to that. Please understand that I can't even bring you straw from the barn. I do have blankets but they must be hidden during the day in case we are searched. It has happened before. I apologize…"

"That is quite all right," said Actor with a smile. "We understand. If it were not for you and your wife we would be sleeping in your wood lot so this is a step up." From the look on their new host's face he appreciated the words even if he did not really believe him.

"Your man is injured?" he said as he looked to Goniff. "Does he need aide? I am a Doctor."

"He took a wrong step. We think it's just sprained. Maybe you could have a look at it, if it's not too much bother and," and Garrison swung around pinning the Guardian with his glare, "if you could wrap up his ribs."

Chief returned the glare but said nothing.

After wrapping an ankle and a set of ribs he returned with a cup and a pitcher of water. He approached Goniff and said, "Here," as he shook out two pills and put them in the Englishman's hand. He then handed him the cup and poured him some water. Goniff tossed them back and drank the water.

"My ankle feels better already now that you wrapped it. Thanks Doctor Noah."

The Doctor had seen Chief go outside so he followed him. Approaching him he held out his hand and said, "Here."

Chief had not seen him give the pills to Goniff so he held out his hand, unsure what he was being given. He stared at the two pills that lay in his hand as the Doctor poured water into the cup. To a real person this was the way to relieve the constant pain but not for him. To him they were a reminder of the drugs that G-CAT used. At the Indian School all the boys were given a vitamin pill every morning so when he arrived at G-CAT and was given a pill he had taken it. He had fought the numb feeling and for a time it had worked but it got harder and harder as the training went on. Each time he was slow or refused to obey he was struck. The second morning he refused to take the pill and he was attacked by three enforcers who beat him and forced him to the floor. When he continued to refuse he was injected. This was level two and it was even harder to fight. He wanted to refuse the orders but with the drug sapping his strength, the pain from the beatings that came with every refusal and a lack of sleep he knew he could not last long. The drugs took away his control making him incapable of refusing an order but when it wore off late in the night he was plagued with nausea and stomach cramps followed by the shakes. By the time they turned up the lights he was in bad shape. It was almost a relief to get the shot. The numbness returned but the nausea and cramps would ease.

The safecracker had been standing outside having a cigarette while waiting for the Doctor to finish up. He had been expecting the Limey to play up his injury but he hadn't. He imagined having to listen to him moaning and groaning the whole way. Thank goodness that hadn't happened. Guess he knew when to push it. He took a step to the side so he could see in the door and watched as Goniff threw back the pills the Doctor had given him and then drank from the cup that was handed to him. He grinned and smacked his lips when he saw the safecracker eyeing him.

Casino was sure Chief was enjoying the Doctors ministrations. His mouth quirked up in a half smile. The kid just wouldn't admit to being injured. Even he knew that, though he had never experienced it, cracked ribs had to hurt. You would think that he would take any help so he could stay with them. He was stubborn, he had to admit that. After a bad start the kid was pulling his own weight.

Casino watched the Doctor come out and hand something to Chief. He was going to turn and go in to see how the Limey was but the way the kid stood there staring at his hand stopped him. When the Doctor poured some water into a cup it hit him. The kid was about to take pills for the pain… like last time. He opened his mouth to yell at him and tell him not to be a damn idiot and if he did then he was on his own when Garrison approached him.

Garrison had seen the Doctor leave and after making sure Goniff was all set he went out to thank the Doctor for his help. He saw Chief standing there looking at his hand. As he came closer he realized what he was looking at. Why he was just standing there looking at them? Was he considering taking them? After that last episode he was sure the man would never take another pill so why was he just standing there? He had to do something so he reached out and put his hand on Chief's arm.

"Don't," was all he said.

Lost in thought Chief had not heard him arrive. He looked up, startled, to Garrison's face and saw the concern, the caring. No Handler had ever looked at him like that. He was used to disgust and anger. Garrison got angry at him too. He had just seen that but ... Could a Hearth get angry at you and still be your Hearth? Gouyen had never said anything about that. Garrison got mad at them and yelled at them then later he treated them all right but he was not their friend. He thought a Guardian and his Hearth were friends. Maybe he was wrong or maybe it was because Garrison was a white man. Gouyen said Guardians and Hearths were from the days before the white man came. Why did he have to get a Hearth that was hard to understand? He snorted. A useless unwanted half breed was lucky to get one at all.

Casino frowned when he realized that the Guardian hadn't seen the Warden coming, if the look on his face was any indication. He had been thinking of taking them, the damn fool. Casino's anger rose as he thought back to those two days he had to go through because of him taking those damn pain pills.

Chief handed the pills back to the Doctor. "I can't take'm."

"They're safe to take. They are just to ease the pain."

Chief just shook his head and said, "Thanks for doin'…" and he gestured to his ribs.

"You are welcome. If you change your mind about the medication just let me know."

"Thanks Doc,"

He watched as the Doctor returned to his house. Did Garrison really believe he would take those pills after that last time?

Casino watched with relief as the pills were returned. He did not want to go through that again. Funny how the kid was quiet and stayed in the background when he was in his right mind but became mean and downright aggressive after those pills wore off. Garrison had hinted that the real stuff had been even worse. Glad he hadn't had to go through that. Hopefully none of them wouldn't ever have to go through that again.


	3. Chapter 3

_This chapter is for the readers who wanted details about that time when…_

Judgement Call

Chapter 3

The last time Chief had taken a pill was a month or so ago and it was Garrison who had given it to him. He had shaken out the pills and handed him the glass of water. Pills scared him but this was Garrison. His Hearth was all right with him being un-drugged. He had taken the pills.

The mission was over and they were home so the men had gone upstairs to the room they shared. The headache from the concussion had plagued him since he had gotten hurt so all he wanted to do was to sleep until the pills kicked in. Casino had had other ideas; he wanted an explanation. Chief tried shutting him down with a "Nunna yer business," but that just spurred him on.

The safecracker had insisted so he raised his hand to brush him off. The next thing he knew he was stumbling backward a new pain blooming in his face. Instinct said attack the attacker and he reacted without thought. The two men went down.

Chief heard his name and he was hauled to his feet before being ordered to the Warden's Office. It was Garrison's order so he complied. Casino sat so he sat.

At first Garrison sat glaring at them. Chief wasn't going to say anything because he hadn't started it besides he had started feeling a little light-headed; Casino had hit him pretty hard. Taking deep breaths he tried to work through it.

Casino caved in first taking the blame. He felt bad about hitting him. "It was my fault. I asked'm something and he flipped me off so I hit him. I'm sorry. I guess I'm tired and …I'm sorry," he added lamely.

The Warden got his apology, thought Chief, so maybe he would let him go lay down. He wasn't feeling good. Instead he kept talking.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to for hitting."

Garrison was right, thought Casino so he turned to his victim and said, "Look, I'm sorry I hit you. I shouldn't've. Okay? I'm sorry." Casino meant what he was saying. He was just so used to settling things with his mouth which the Guardian ignored or his fists. Hitting an injured guy was wrong.

Chief knew something was wrong. The tiredness he had been feeling had changed to a feeling that everything was too much effort. He had to concentrate but it was too hard to follow. Just sit quiet and they won't notice you. But the one beside him, Casino, was looking at him, saying… something.

Slowly it dawned on him. He knew this feeling. He had felt it before. This was how he felt when they gave him the drugs at GCAT. The compliance drug always started with the fuzzy fog. It made it hard to fight. Then the compliance kicked in and your free will faded off into the fog. It was like you stopped thinking and just obeyed. The fog had rolled in and knew what came next. He was at their mercy. He gripped the arms of the chair as he realized that they could make him do anything now.

Someone was asking… 'Okay?' The drug made it hard to follow a conversation so he just nodded. If he was wrong he would be hit. Brace yourself. It was hard to judge time but nothing had happened so he must have guessed right.

Good, thought Casino when he saw the nod; that was done so could he go now? He was going to get up when he noticed how the guy was holding on to the arms of the chair. What was wrong?

"Did you hear what he had to say?" asked Garrison. He wasn't going to let it go.

Another question, this time from his… from Garrison but he was unsure. That was why all orders were preceded by the command, "Guardian" to get their attention. Garrison refused to use the commands so he had to guess what he had asked. It worked the first time so the Guardian nodded again. It was going to be all right.

No, it wasn't. Garrison wanted… something. He didn't know what. He was waiting for an answer. In the back of his mind was the thought to say 'Handler, permission to speak' but he remembered in time that Garrison didn't like that so he just said, "What?"

A face appeared… someone familiar peering at him. It was… Garrison. He was frowning. That meant he was in trouble. Maybe he should have asked permission. His heart rate picked up. He was going to get hit. He knew it but was powerless to stop it. He tried to concentrate like he had been taught. Maybe if he concentrated harder…

"Did you take your pills?"

Not Trainer… Garrison, asking about pills. Pills were working. "Yeah. Don't like'm."

The Trainer was talking about pain. He was going to be in a lot of pain after what he just said but he didn't care. The effect of the drugs was going to get worse to the point where he could barely talk so if he was going to say anything he had to say it now.

"Fuzzy. Don't like drugged"

The Trainer's face disappeared.

To Casino's ear, the Guardian's answer sounded strange. Back when he first started with this outfit the kid was like that retarded kid that lived in the old neighborhood, slow. He was starting to sound like him again. That was bad. Garrison checked the pills in his drawer. The pills the Doctor gave him for the pain weren't the same, were they? The frown confirmed that something bad had just gotten worse. Had he given him the wrong drugs? He wanted to know but when he asked Garrison told him to get out.

"Warden," demanded Casino. "I wanna help. I got him into this." He wanted to know what had happened to him especially since it was his fault that he had to take the pills in the first place.

Garrison looked at him, anger flared in his eyes. "Yes you did. And you are going to help get him through it."

The Guardian heard the voices; they were angry and upset about something. Orders were being given. Were they for him? Orders for him always started with a 'Guardian' as in 'Guardian down'. Had he missed the first word of the command? The voices were getting angrier. The Trainer was angry. Angry Trainers could hurt you. He had to do something so he slipped to the floor and assumed the submissive position, kneeling with his forehead on the floor. He waited.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Casino clearly concerned. Why was he kneeling like that? What the hell? The Guardian position? Why was he…? Garrison was going to be pissed….

And he was.

"Guardian, Stand."

Automatically the Guardian got up. Was the Trainer going to knock him down? He tried to brace himself for the blow.

"Don't treat him like that," demanded Casino as he jumped to his feet. He watched in horror as the Guardian obeyed.

"You gave him the Compliance drug!?" he asked incredulously. "You bastard!" His hands curled into fist and he barely restrained his urge to attack.

"He's addicted to the pain medication. It must be in the Compliance drug."

"Addicted? But… You mean just giving him the painkillers…?" That made some sort of sense to the safe cracker. Garrison wouldn't deliberately drug the kid with that poison. He tried to look into Chief's face but his head was down and his eyes were on the floor.

"Guardian, come."

What was Garrison going to do to him? He followed as the Warden walked him upstairs. Casino had waited at the end of the hall. He wanted to be close enough to step in if the guy went overboard but he did not want Garrison pissed at him too.

The Trainer headed for the door and he obeyed, following him up the stairs and down the hall to another room, not the one the cons shared. The Trainer used a key to release the lock then opened the door and stepped inside. The Guardian got as far as the door and saw it was a bedroom.

His heart began to pound and his respiration increased. He was NOT going into a bedroom with a Trainer. NEVER! He stood his ground.

"Guardian, on the Bed." The Trainer stood waiting, his face grim.

NO. His mind refused to even consider obeying. It took a moment to realize that his feet had not moved. He was not controlled!

"You can stay here until the drug wears off. Do you understand?" Garrison said gently as he moved closer to where Chief stood.

The Guardian watched as the Trainer headed for him and the door. He was talking but there were no commands. He did pick out "stay" and "drug". Was he going to be kept on the drugs? Don't let him know it's not working, thought the Guardian fearfully.

"We'll help you through this. Casino will take the first shift. Do you remember where you went the last time? The playroom? Go there. Do you understand?"

The Trainer was saying something but he couldn't figure it out. As he got closer the Guardian stepped back into the hall to let him pass. As he did he saw a dejected Casino standing at the end of the hall.

Casino wondered why the Guardian had just stood there. He had seen in that room and it was just a bedroom. Finally Garrison came out and Chief went in. What was he supposed to do now? He stood his ground as the Lieutenant came towards him.

"He'll probably sleep for the night but keep your ears open if he gets up. I'll unlock the playroom. Try and get him in there. It'll make it a lot easier." He then continued on down the hall to their end of the corridor.

Casino stood wondering. Garrison looked and sounded pissed all the way up here but this advice was given without anger. Guess that meant he was angry at the kid and not him. Well that was good news, at least for him. Why was he pissed at the Guardian? It wasn't his fault. If he was going to treat him like that then Garrison wasn't the man they thought he was.

No matter how he felt about the guy the advice sounded good so he went back to the room they shared and prepared to get some sleep.

Chief looked into the room. It was a young boy's room with pictures of horses, some standing and others racing, mounted on the walls. There was a tennis racket on the shelf with a picture of a man playing tennis. The walls were pale blue as were the drapes and matching bedspread. Casino had stayed down the hall so he went in. The bed looked comfortable so he closed the door, put a chair in front and lay down.

He must have fallen asleep because the pain in his head woke him some time later. When he opened his eyes he was confused. Where was he? The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight coming in the tall window. He was in a bedroom. Who's? He looked around anxiously as he sat up. It was a fancy room with matching pale blue walls and curtains. His eyes fell on the framed picture of the man standing in front of a horse. He had seen it before. He was in the room… and his eyes darted to the door. It was still closed and the chair was in place; windows, closed. A quick look around the room, he was still safe.

The fuzziness was gone but he knew the headache was just the start. He needed water and he needed to get out of this room; there were things here he did not want to wreck. He did not want to get sick on the carpet or the bedspread. When Garrison had got him clean the last time he had taken him to a room that he said was the children's playroom. There was no furniture just an old mattress on the floor. He would go there.

Carefully he stood and waited for the nausea to pass. First stop was the window so he could look out. The moon was only half out and low in the sky but it was enough to illuminate the back yard casting grey light and shadows. Good, that meant he had the house to himself. If only he could get through this before the others woke up. He did not want anyone to see him fall apart. He knew he was a pathetic wreck; he didn't need them all to see it. It was bad enough that Garrison had seen it.

He made it out the door and down the hall. Mentally he reviewed where that room was. That was a place he did not want to remember but could never forget. The chills started as he tried, mentally to place the location of the room. He tried the first door handle, sure it was not the right room but he had been pretty sick when he was here last. He could not trust his memory from that time. It was locked. He tried the second and it opened.

This was the room, he was sure, and that was confirmed when he found the light switch. The room remained empty except for the mattress and the bucket. He wasn't sure if he should be glad it was or angry that Garrison thought he would fail again.

"Damn you," he muttered.

When he inhaled he caught only a faint scent of vomit but not enough that a real person would notice. Someone had done a good job of cleaning in here. As he reached out to check the window he noticed that his hand was shaking. This was going to be bad. Try as he might he could not remember how long before it got that bad. The last time when he got clean it seemed to get bad real fast and then take forever. Time meant nothing when you were that sick.

With great concentration he made his way to the mattress and sat down. The trembling had gone from his hands down to his legs. Even as he sat he could see them shaking. He grabbed his thighs with his hands and tried to still them but it did not work. His hands were shaking too.

He was thirsty and his mouth was dry but he couldn't leave. Maybe Casino would bring something to drink. Picturing Casino standing down at the end of the hall he felt his anger rise.

"Leave me alone," he muttered. "I don't need you," he said forcefully. "I don't need any a you. Just leave me alone."

He wanted water and he was going to get it himself. He didn't need Casino to get it. Bracing himself with one hand on the wall he stood. Not only did he not need anyone he did not need the lights either. Real people needed lights, he didn't. By feel and memory he made his way down the stairs and back to the kitchen. By picturing the kitchen he located the cupboard and found a glass, filled it and drank. He didn't need anyone.

It was his penchant for looking out windows that did him in. He filled the glass once more and headed for where he knew the window was located. Guardians had excellent night vision but they did require some light. In total darkness he was as blind as the next guy. That was why he did not see the stool that the cook sat on when she was peeling vegetables. Normally it was kept off in the corner but Goniff had taken it out to stand on when he changed a light bulb in the kitchen and had not returned it properly. Chief's foot caught the leg sending it careening into the cupboard. He was startled by the pain in his toes and the noise and he dropped the glass which being heavy landed with a thud but did not break.

"Fuckin' bastard," he ground out while he checked his foot. He had caught the leg with the outer part of his foot and it hurt. When he touched it, it was wet. Blood? He touched his fingers together. Wrong feel. It was just the water from the glass. There had not been the sound of breaking glass so he should be safe there. Squatting down he felt around until he found the glass, felt it carefully to make sure it was intact and then picked it up.

Bracing himself against the cupboard he stood. He felt light headed but he did not have time to consider that. His hearing had picked up a noise approaching. Someone was coming. First thought was to hide but his anger squashed that. He had every right to be here. Turning to face the door he waited.

This was the third time Casino had woken up. He was going to turn over and go back to sleep but something told him to get up. Grabbing his robe he carefully made his way to the door and down the hall. A quick look around showed no lights so it had to be him, if there was anyone here. The place was creepy at night. A little groping and he found the light switch, illuminating the stairs and long hall. The guy hadn't eaten much so the kitchen was the next place to look.

The swinging door was closed so he slowly opened it. The hall light was far enough away that it illuminated only a small section of the floor leaving the rest in darkness.

From within the darkness of the kitchen a pair of eyes watched as a figure, with his hand on the door, appeared backlit by the light. Chief knew that silhouette. It was Casino.

Out of the inky depths came a growled, "Whata you want?" raising the hairs on the back of Casino's neck, those that had not already been standing. Wandering alone through a creepy old house was enough to put anyone on edge.

"I heard a noise." Casino was wary. He knew he could take the guy, when he was normal but this drugged business was an unknown. Would he attack him? That time when they first got together and the Warden and Actor had taken care of this the two, especially the Warden, had looked pretty rough by the time he was through it. With this in mind there was no way he was going to walk in there in the dark.

"So?" The Guardian sounded angry.

Had he moved closer? He peered into the dark as he said, "I wanted to make sure you were all right?" Casino desperately wanted to see where he was. Did he have a knife? There were large knives in the kitchen. Did he have one in his hand?

"You want the light on?" Shit, he thought. That was a stupid idea. He would have to put his hand in to get the switch. He pictured the knife descending on his arm. Shit.

"No." Chief was still determined to prove he did not need help but the anger was receding just a little.

Relief, until he pictured an angry Guardian charging up behind him. "I'll leave the hall light on." He released the door and turned to go. A muffled, "Don't bother," followed as he headed for the playroom.

Good, he was gone. Chief put the glass on the counter then changed his mind and took it to the sink for a refill. He was still thirsty. He thought to bring a full glass with him but with his hands shaking the way they were it would probably spill before he got there. He put the glass in the sink and headed back upstairs.

Up in the playroom Casino had gone in and looked around. He, Chief and Goniff had found this room in their explorations but had ignored it. There was nothing in it. The Warden must have known about it too. He frowned as he realized that the Warden had told him to come here which meant he knew that they knew about it. He thought they had done it in secret, not that it mattered.

The room was the same as it had been, empty except for the mattress. What if the Guardian didn't come back here? The light was on so he had been here but what if he decided to go somewhere else now? What if he took off? Would Garrison be pissed at him? It wasn't his fault, well the injured part was but there was no way he could make the Guardian do anything. He pictured telling that voice in the kitchen, 'Guardian come' and snorted. Probably get knifed for that.

The floor creaked. Was he coming? He waited and watched.

By the time Chief reached the top of the steps the pain in his foot had settled from his whole foot to just the three outer toes and down the side. At the end of the hall he saw the light spilling out of the open door. Stopping outside he waited for his eyes to adjust to the light knowing what he would see when he entered.

Casino was in there. The thought crossed his mind to go somewhere else but there was nowhere else. He was starting to feel very weak so he went in and sat on the mattress. Now that he was sitting still the chills came back even stronger so he pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around himself.

A blanket. He had seen a blanket but where? He looked down. He was sitting on it. He wanted the warmth of it around him but he couldn't make himself move to get it. His headache was spreading down the back of his neck so he laid his head down on his knees. This seemed to help for a time but then it began to ache from the bent position. Maybe if he lay down.

It took several minutes before he got up the energy to put that thought into action. As he shifted he pulled the blanket out from under him but when he tried to spread it out, it refused. Suddenly it was pulled and his grip tightened. Looking up to see what the hell was going on he saw Casino standing there holding the corner. As he watched the safecracker used his other hand to pull the blanket open and hold it waiting to cover the ailing man. Chief wanted to refuse, he wanted to tell him to fuck off but he felt too miserable. He did want that warmth. He lay out and the blanket descended. He was not comfortable and his neck still ached but it was better. Maybe he could sleep. He closed his eyes.

The kid looked terrible. Usually so strong and … he looked … sick. Even the way he walked looked bad. This was so unlike him. He wanted to help but what could he do? He knew the kid wouldn't like him staring at him so he looked off to the side.

Chief might have dosed off but a sudden muscle spasm jerked his leg waking him. He tried to lie still but his legs… He had to move. Throwing off the blanket he got up and began walking around the room. As he moved his heart began to race and he began to pant. Something was wrong. He went to the window and tried to part the curtain but it was all one piece and nailed. He grabbed the edge and pulled as his anger flared. It held so he pulled harder and one end came down with a sound of ripping material. He pushed the bunched up material out of his way and looked out the window. It was still dark so all he saw was his reflection. He pushed closer and cupping his hands to his face he looked again. Still nothing. He spun around and looked around the room. Something was going to happen. What was wrong? He had to get out so he turned back to the window but couldn't figure out how to get it open. Get a chair and smash it, his mind told him but when he looked there were no chairs…

But there was a door. Out, he had to get out. He had only taken a step when Casino, who had risen when he began walking, stepped in front of the door blocking his exit. His anger flared but before he could act his stomach clenched. He was going to be sick. He frowned as he fought the urge, taking deep breaths but he was losing. Barely making it to the bucket by the mattress he lost all the water he had drank in the kitchen and now his mouth tasted terrible. All he could do was wipe his mouth on the back of his hand and go and sit. The chills returned and he lay down and curled up.

Casino watched as he threw up. There was nothing he could do but when the Guardian went and lay down he stepped in. Reaching down he grabbed the blanket but the corner was under the man's leg. He pulled.

Someone was trying to steal his blanket and the ailing man lashed out with his foot as he struggled to sit up.

Casino grunted in pain as the foot connected with his ankle. "Hey," he yelled "Just trying to help you here." He spread the blanket as he stepped back out of range.

"Don't need your help." Chief grabbed a corner and pulled it up to his chin. He started to shiver. Minutes later his internal thermostat swung the other way and he began to sweat. The blanket was thrown off and the pacing began again.

Endlessly he walked around the room. Sometimes he stopped and stood still before groaning and continuing the pacing. For a time he sat down on the mattress with his back against the wall. It started slowly but soon he was banging his head against the wall.

"Chief?" He was ignored so he tried again. "Chief?"

The dull thud as his head hit the wall drowned out the buzzing in his head. The pain masked the other pain, the pain of wanting, wanting something to stop the agony. A pill would help but only for a short time and then he would have to go through this again. This thought brought fresh agony.

Casino had moved in closer unsure what to do when he heard the tap on the door. The kid was still banging his head; he had not heard it.

"Who is it?" Garrison would just walk in. Maybe it was the Sargent Major. He didn't need to see the kid like this.

"Casino?"

The safecracker jumped up and opened the door admitting Garrison who was carrying a tray. "Actor made you some breakfast," he said as he put the tray down. "We're out of coffee so you'll have to make do with tea."

Casino eyed the kippers and toast with the jam pot on the side. Fish for breakfast had thrown him the first time but he had come to love the things. His momma made better toast but the jam here was good.

"You want some?" he asked turning to the other room's occupant. A look of disgust was the only answer. At least he had stopped hitting his head. Casino poured some tea into the cup and began to eat.

"How's it going so far?" Garrison asked quietly.

Casino considered. So far he had been kicked and threatened but he had been in far worse fights and besides the kid couldn't help it. He was in far worse shape than he was.

"I'm all right," he said between mouthfuls. "How's he look?" and he gestured with a tip of his head. Casino took a sip of tea then looked to the Officer.

"This time doesn't seem as bad as …" He was looking over his shoulder at the Guardian so Casino swung around to see what had caught his interest.

The kid's eyes were open but he was not moving. Being careful to stay out of reach he moved in closer. This didn't look right. "Warden?" he asked with a quick look. "You think he catted? What'm I supposed to do?"

Garrison stepped in closer and said, "Chief?"

The man on the mattress ground his teeth and yelled, "WHAT?" He shook with barely contained fury, his fists curled as he leapt to his feet. With powerful strides he strode to the far end and raised his fists over his shoulders and brought them down against the wall with enough force the two other men in the room thought he had cracked the plaster. He swung around, face contorted in pain and snarled, "Stop." He let out a groan and paced back to the mattress but instead of sitting he grabbed his left forearm with his right hand and began to rub it. His left hand began rubbing his right forearm.

Garrison turned and left.

Casino stood watching, uncertain. The pacing began again but instead of just rubbing his arms he began scratching at his forearms and upper arms through his sweater. Soon it was his chest as well. Occasionally he groaned.

Minutes later Garrison returned carrying a bowl of ice and a large tea towel. "Casino, Chief." He handed the bowl to the safecracker and turned to the patient. "Pull up your sleeves, Chief." He waited until he complied and then he wrapped some ice in the cloth and rubbed it gently up and down Chief's arms, one at a time. "Better?"

"He was scratching his chest too," put in Casino.

Suddenly Chief pulled away and ran to the bathroom that was off the end of the room. The two men heard the sounds of retching before he finally returned. He was hunched a bit as if his stomach hurt. He accepted the piece of ice that Garrison handed to him and put it in his mouth before he sat on the mattress and leaned against the wall.

"Use the ice, Chief and let Casino help you."

"I don't need any help," he growled, his voice husky from the vomiting and his anger.

Casino was going to say that it didn't 'look like it' but thought better of it. He had already told himself that he had to watch his mouth around the kid. Put it into practice 'big mouth', he thought with a grimace.

A soft tap at the door had the Guardian jerk upright, alert to the new danger. Actor poked his head in and said, "Lieutenant, there's a phone call for you in your office."

"Thank you, I'll be right there." He stood and handed the cloth wrapped ice to Casino. "It helps to ease the itching.

"I'll send Goniff up for the dishes," he said as he turned to leave.

Casino watched the Guardian eying the door as it closed. Was he trying to track him? What was it with the kid and the Warden?

Chief's guts were in an uproar and he was back to being cold. The ice must have done that. He wanted to be warm but the cold helped. Garrison had come and he wasn't mad anymore. He felt his eyes well up at that thought. Garrison was the only one he had, the only person that didn't hate him, the only real person who almost cared about him.

'Don't be stupid! No one cares about you.' The voice that spoke that in his head was that of the Trainer that he had killed. He had taken the whip and used it to kill him and he had run. The anger he had felt, the anger he had used to fight the withdrawal then grab the whip returned. He lurched to his feet and headed for the door.

Where was he going? Casino had to stop him so he jumped to his feet and cut him off.

The Guardian was not going to be deterred. He tried to push past the… blocking his way but he would not move. He struck out with his fist connecting with the… his arm but he would not move. The pain in his head was getting worse and his vision was blurring. He stepped back and held his head trying to contain the pain. His legs were getting shaky so he carefully made his way to the mattress, sat down and closed his eyes.

He wanted… needed… His heart was pounding and he couldn't breathe.

Casino rubbed his arm as he also returned to the mattress, eyeing the bowl with the ice remnants. "You want any of this before it all melts?" he asked.

Chief reached over and took a piece of ice and held it to his forehead. He would have like the cloth but that would take too much effort.

Casino watched his team mate. This feeling of helplessness was familiar. His father had been hurt in a fall at work and had been laid up for almost two weeks. Sitting with him after school so his mamma could get dinner ready had been hard. Watching him in pain and being unable to help wore on you. How his momma did it all day was beyond him though he saw the exhausted look on her face. She never complained. Was he as good as she was? Could he do this without complaining? If she could then so could he. Besides, Garrison and Actor were here to help. Maybe one of them would come and relieve him.

On that note there was a knock and Garrison stepped into the room. He assessed the situation, came over and squatted down beside his youngest team memeber. Casino knew there was trouble, Garrison was wearing his uniform.

"Chief, Actor and I have to go to London. I don't know when we'll be back. Casino and Goniff will look after you, see you through."

Chief knew he had failed. He was a failure. The only man who… and he was too weak to go with him and protect him. He was going into battle and here he was sick. A failure again…

"I'm sorry." His voice broke and tears overflowed his down cast eyes. He was miserable.

"Chief? Look at me." All he got was a shake of his head so he reached out and took his chin.

Casino, remembering the voice in the dark and the pain in his arm, became alarmed.

Garrison lifted his team member's head. "Chief," he waited until watery eyes looked up. They only got as far as his mouth but at least he made it that far. "We are going to a briefing. I need you to get clean. I need you to pull through this so you can be there when I need you. Understand?" Both men could see the slight easing of the abject misery on the man's face. "I also need you to let Casino help you. And don't say you don't need help." They both saw the slight twitch of his mouth. "Casino needs that as well so let him help. Understand?"

Chief's nose had starting to run as he nodded.

Garrison stood and looked to his safecracker. He, seeing the signal, stood as well and followed his leader to the door.

"You're going to have to stay with him until we get back. It may be hours or days." Casino understood the unsaid. "I don't want Goniff in here without you. I've told him to do what you ask and no screwing around. He said he knew where there was a bell. He's going to put it outside the door. Ring it when you need something, he's to get what you need. The Sargent Major is here as well. All he knows is that Chief is sick."

"I got it." Casino knew he was in for a bad time but Garrison trusted him. He would do it.

Garrison's tone changed from the Officer to friend as he said, "Look after him for me." He opened the door and left leaving a stunned Casino standing there.

He cared for him. Garrison hadn't been mad at him when he took him to that room. He was angry but not at either of them. He was angry that Chief … angry at **himself** for giving the drugs to the kid? The revelation stunned him and he turned back to look at the kid. The feeling went both ways. The kid worshiped? Was that the right word?

Casino thought back to when he was a kid. He had once thought that way about his dad. He had wanted to be with him, had wanted to be just like him. His dad had yelled and demanded and so did he. He was a lot like his dad. Did the kid look to Garrison like a father? Didn't he have a father of his own? Did Guardians… of course Guardians had fathers, everyone had to have a father even if they didn't stick around or got killed like Steven's dad. Steven had been seven when his dad was killed in a car accident. He had been real lost after that.

The kid grew up without a dad. That had to be hard. That was why he wanted Garrison's approval. That meant in any trouble the kid would side with Garrison against the other cons. That was good to know but then you couldn't really blame the kid, having had to grow up that way.

Speaking of, the kid was laying curled on the mattress. He was no longer crying but he looked miserable. Remembering his nose, Casino went to the bathroom and got some toilet paper and brought it to the kid. Without a word he handed it to him. Used and tossed, Casino watched the wad sail past the bucket. So unlike the kid to miss but he was laying on his side and he was sick. He picked it up and dropped it into the bucket.

As he sat back down beside the mattress he watched as Chief's hand moved up and down his calf. He was scratching his leg. He knew what to do now.

"Take off your pants." There was no way he was going to be able to pull the cuff up high enough to put ice on his leg.

Suddenly Casino was flat on the floor on his back and an irate Guardian was lying on top with his hands around Casino's throat. Pure rage twisted his face exposing his teeth. Sweat stood out on his brow.

"You ain't no Trainer and I ain't drugged. You even try an' I'll kill you."

Casino was stunned and he couldn't breathe. His hands pulled at the constriction at his throat to no avail. He tried to talk but nothing came out so he nodded and tried to look nonthreatening as he watched the sweat running down the angry man's face.

After a very long moment the pressure eased and then was released as the Guardian pulled back though he watched closely ready to finish the action. Casino pulled air into his lungs and sat up slowly unwilling to trigger another attack.

"All," cough, "All I wanted to do was put ice on your leg." He made sure he avoided eye contact. "That's all. Here, I'll fix the ice and you…"

The bowl of ice had spilled leaving the remaining chips on the mattress surrounded by a wet spot where the melt water had soaked in. Casino gathered up the chips as best he could, folded the towel and held it out. The Guardian did not move so he put it down, grabbed the bowl and moved away keeping his hands in sight. When he got to the door he said, "I'll just go get some more. I'll be right back."

As he closed the door behind him he saw the bell but did not touch it. He was too upset, besides he had to get away even for a minute.

As he headed down the hall he thought about what had happened. Why had he attacked him? All he said was, "You ain't no Trainer and I ain't drugged." What did that have to do with trying to kill him and he would have. This was a warning, but why?

Garrison had come in and told him he was leaving and the kid was upset. Then he got the toilet paper and then put it… His leg was itchy. He had told him to take his pants off and then he had exploded.

"Shit! He thought I…" Casino's face contorted in revulsion and certain parts of anatomy reacted negatively at the thought of… . Why would he even think that?

'You're not a Trainer…' Is that what Trainers did? Ugh. The revulsion returned again. "Shit!"

The threat of being raped was bad enough. Someone had tried it the first time he was sent up. He had beaten him senseless; message delivered and he was never bothered again but he never forgot. For Chief's reaction to be that fast and that violent, Casino gingerly touched his neck, the kid must have actually experience it.

Even worse he was drugged so he couldn't fight back. 'Guardian stand' and he stood, 'Guardian come,' and he came. He was horrified and repulsed as he tried and failed to complete the thought.

He entered the kitchen and put the bowl on the counter as Goniff came in through the door.

"I didn't 'ear anything. Didn't it work?"

"I didn't use it." Casino was in no mood to talk. He could not get the thought out of his mind about what had been done to…

"What's wrong, Casino?" He sounded worried but Casino was too tied up with his anger and revulsion.

"Later," he ground out as he began pounding away at the block of ice. Lacking a better target, all his anger was directed at the block of ice.

"Casino, stop! Casino!"

The words finally got through and he stopped. Instead of chipping at the edges like the Warden had done, he was pounding away at the center. He had chipped out quite the dent.

"What's wrong Casino, and don't say later. Something'is wrong now. Is it Chiefy? Did he do something? 'E's not 'imself, you know. Whatever it was, I'm sure 'e didn't mean it." The Englishman held out his hand and Casino gave him the ice pick.

Casino shook his head and flexed his hands trying to work out the tension as he considered what to say. Goniff had been in stir, he knew what sometimes happened there. Did he really need to know it had happened to Chief? Would it change how he treated him? The kid would hate him if he spread it around.

"'E was raped wasn't 'e?"

"What? I didn't say that!"

"You didn't 'ave to," answered Goniff sadly.

Angered that the truth was out he stepped in closer and said, "Don't you say a word to him." His voice was low and threatening. "Cause if you do…"

"It won't come from me," he quickly reassured the safecracker. He held his eyes for a moment and then began chipping the ice into pieces and putting them in the bowl.

Casino returned to the room where Chief was waiting for him without his pants. His glare said he had not forgotten his threat. He took the bowl over to the mattress and sat. When Chief came closer he could see the red marks on his legs where he had scratched. Quickly he added fresh ice to the towel and handed it back to his team mate.

Chief was in agony. His skin itched on his arms and legs. The only relief came from the ice as it numbed his skin. He ran the towel wrapped ice over his legs and then up to his arms as he resumed his pacing. Moving helped alleviate the pain in his muscles. He paced to alleviate the anxiety.

"Has he come back yet?" Chief asked sometime later. "He's not comin' back is he?"

"He'll be back." Did he really believe it or was he just trying to placate Chief.

"You don't know that."

Casino hated being called on a lie. He remembered when his little brother doubted there was a Santa Claus. He couldn't take the childhood fantasy away so when he had said those words, 'you don't know that' he had jumped in and said 'Yes I do, I saw him.' He had become a hero to his younger siblings.

He wanted to do that again but what could he tell him; He's always come back before, he always has a plan, the guy's indestructible…

The truth was that there was a war on and people died. That led to thoughts of what would happen if he did. How long would they leave the cons here? Would they replace the Warden? Would they send them back to prison?

"They'll send me back."

Casino looked up at him sharply. Had he read his thoughts? There were stories that Guardians could read minds. Were they true? His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What'd you say?"

Chief turned to him looking confused. "If he don't come back they'll send me back to G-CAT."

Had he read his mind or was it a simple matter of two minds thinking alike as his confused expression suggested. He had to know. He stood and took a step closer. "Can you read minds?"

"Guardians can't read minds." Then he added with self-loathing, "Least I can't."

Well, thought Casino, at least that was settled. He doubted the kid could lie convincingly in the state he was in.

"Can you listen for'm?" he asked. The safe cracker was an honorable man but sometimes you had to take advantage of a situation for your own safety, like now. The kid was vulnerable. He had talked more than he would normally so if he wanted to know anything he had to ask now. As long as he didn't get too personal, though his dark side suggested he see how far he could go.

Chief stopped at the window and peered out into the garden. The sun had come up but the light cloud cover kept the early spring scene in tones of grey- green. It looked so peaceful and promising out there unlike his thoughts that were in such turmoil. The anxiety he felt could be from worry about Garrison. If he could just know he was safe… If he could just feel his … He felt so lost, alone, miserable.

Pathetic. His lip curled in disgust. He was pathetic. Everything G-CAT said was true. Guardians were pathetic. They needed someone to help and guide them at all times. Without their Handler they were PATHETIC USELESS DOGS.

He spun around and glared at the real person. They had everything. They didn't need anyone. They didn't need a Handler. They **were** Handlers.

Casino saw the switch from lost to angry so he stood still. Never back down but don't make it worse. In a fair fight he could take the kid but if he hurt him now Garrison would crucify him.

"I don't need you!" growled Chief. The voice in the darkness was back.

"No you don't," he replied calmly, "But I can help you."

The Guardian took a step closer and asserted, "I don't need your help. I don't need no one."

That struck a nerve for the safecracker. Every kid, as they grew up wanted independence. He was seven when he thought he didn't need his family. It was over some silly argument that he couldn't remember but he had thought he didn't need anyone so he had moved into the fort he had built on the vacant lot at the end of the street. He was fine, reading his comic books and though the sandwich he had brought for dinner left him hungry he remained resolute. Strange noises in the middle of the night kept him awake but it was early morning that did him in. The hunger and the loneliness had tempted him to sneak home for food and reassurance, except when he got there the house was empty. They were all gone. Panic set in and he sat on the porch and began to cry. A neighbor had found him and told him everyone was out looking for him. He needed them as much as they needed him. Had no one ever told the Guardian that? He could take care of that.

"Maybe not but I need you." A little white lie was all right now and then if it got you what you wanted. It was a lie wasn't it. He'd pulled jobs without a Guardian and got away with it too. He didn't even need the Warden. If those hot shots just told him what they wanted then he could do the job. And a few side jobs as well.

Casino thought about how he would take down a bank. Having someone with the ability to hear the guards coming would be an asset and the kid could drive. He had to admit the Guardian would come in handy but that was not the same as needing him.

The safecracker watched for a tell. Was he still angry? Was he placated? There was nothing, he just stood glaring. Had he catted? Shit! Garrison wasn't here. In desperation Casino tilted his head and stepped sideways and closer, frowning. Relief, the kid was tracking him. He was all right. He stepped back. The kid was weird, eerie like that, the way he could stare at you without blinking.

"Wish you wouldn't do that?" Casino stepped back and went to sit on the mattress.

"Why?" His tone was neutral.

Casino considered what to say. Did he admit that the kid could bug him? No. "Cause it makes me think you catted."

"Why'd you care?" he tossed off as he went to stand at the window.

"Cause I don't know how to get you back." Casino used the same neutral tone.

"Don't matter. Be easier for you if I did?" Before Casino could answer he added, "Easier for me too."

"Don't you dare," he demanded angrily. He had heard that if a catatonic Guardian was left that way too long that they died. "You ain't dyin' on me."

"You don't know what it's like." The Guardian's voice was sad and filled with pain. "This is what I have to look forward to. Every time they get a hold a me I gotta go through this. Maybe I should just stay on the stuff." He paused then whispered, "Be a whole lot easier."

Casino felt his pain as he thought about what he had said. This was bad enough from taking painkillers but Garrison had hinted that coming down from the Compliance drug was worse. Imagine having to do that again and again…

"I could talk to Actor, maybe find a way to make you disappear, somewhere they'd never find you."

Chief's head whipped around. "I can't do that. I can't just leave'm. I owe him my life. I can't just…" He looked away, embarrassed and ashamed at his outburst because he knew that it was true. He had killed to be free, to not owe anyone. He knew that now he was no longer free but he was tied to someone who had helped him. He wasn't free but this was different. He owed Garrison; he did not owe a Handler. He resumed his pacing.

Goniff brought trays of food and tea which he ate and drank. Chief tried the tea but it did not stay down. He refrained after that. Casino wondered how he could keep going, pacing continuously eating only ice chips. And not sleeping. The kid was always an early riser but this all day and night without sleep was killing him. Occasionally he would tell Casino to get off the mattress and he would lay out only to get up and pace again. As tired as he was there was no way he could sleep in here with the kid all wound up like that. Probably come over and kill him as he slept.

On and on it had gone. At one point he thought the kid was getting tired but instead he came over and grabbed the mattress and flipped it. Casino had gotten off it just in time. He could have gotten mad at him and even started a fight but he knew the kid was in pain besides in the mood he was in he would fight to kill. Best just back off and let him be. As hard as that was for Casino, he knew it was the right thing to do.

As he moved away to a safer distance he wondered if all Guardians were like him? Had they all had such rotten lives? Garrison had told him that his job was the safecracker and no one was going to replace him. He had originally tried to get rid of the kid because he thought he would take his place. Garrison had told him that wasn't going to happen. The kid was their look out and now wheelman. They each had a place on the team. He could continue to harass the kid but why? Why not try to make his life a little easier?

He was so tired that it took him a moment for that to register. Was he seriously considering being nice to the kid? He must be out of his mind. Oh, he would stop trying to get rid of him but there was no way he was going soft. That was just not his way.

The Guardian grabbed the corner of the mattress, yanked it up and pulled before dropping it and stalking away. At one point he turned and glared angrily at Casino. He held out his hands in surrender and the angry man turned away and resumed pacing.

As Casino watched he realized there was a reason why he held himself apart and it sure wasn't because he thought he was better. He was also beginning to understand why the kid followed Garrison. He felt he owed him. Casino could understand this kind of debt. When you understand a guy it was easier to accept him. They were not best friends but Casino had taken a step in that direction.

They were both exhausted by the time Chief finally drifted off or more rightly collapsed. Casino had been asleep on his feet.


	4. Chapter 4

Judgement Call

Chapter 4

The Belgian Doctor promised food so the men returned to the shed to hide and wait. Chief had headed for the barn but Garrison told him not to go there, that there might be illness there. He had nodded then began looking for a way to get on the roof.

The food arrived at dusk, the blankets would be later. Each man took a bowl of the watery soup and a slice of the heavy bread. They knew that this close to spring that the winter supplies would be all but depleted. They were grateful for the hot food but with the temperature falling the way it was they were in for a cold night. Sleeping on the ground was going to feel even colder.

Chief had sat on the edge of the wagon with his bowl on his lap while he tore the bread into pieces. Casino saw him and decided to join him. When he hopped up the suspension shifted jostling Chief and his soup slopped over the side and onto his lap.

"Hey," he yelled as the hot liquid seeped through his pants. He picked up his bowl and looked at the dark spot.

Goniff chuckled and said the first thing that came to mind, "Looks like you pissed your…" He stopped when all eyes turned his way and he remembered back at the air base and the soldier's comments about tormenting the Guardian.

"I'm sorry Chief. I shouldn't a said that. I didn't mean anything by it, honest I didn't. Look 'ere I'll…" and he began to tip his bowl.

"Don't!" That was all he said as he took his bowl and hopped off the wagon to head outside. Fortunately Casino still held his bowl and was able to compensate for the wagon's shift again. No one spoke, they just concentrated on eating.

When they were finished Garrison gathered up the bowls. Actor offered to take them back but the Officer said he wanted to talk to the Doctor. Casino and Goniff exchanged looks. They knew what that meant. The thought of stealing the map from Garrison's pocket crossed Goniff's mind but there was no time to set it up. In spite of making it look so easy there was usually prep work beforehand. You had to be in the right position to make it work. Garrison's inside breast pocket was not the easiest pocket to pick. He could do it if he had a chance to set it up and then there was the problem of his injured ankle.

Chief, who had taken up a position around the corner of the barn, watched Garrison come out and approach the house by following the darkest parts of the route. He was pretty good at it. A quick tap on the door and moments later he was admitted.

Chief was cold out here. The coat he wore was warm but the longer he stood out here the colder he was going to get. There was a corner out behind the barn where some boards had been piled where he would be warmer but then he would not be able to see the shed. It wasn't that it was windy but being this exposed on three sides meant you got colder faster. He wondered when the Doctor would bring the blankets. If there was a dark one then he could wrap it around himself. He glanced upward. The roof was accessible and the view would be perfect but it would be colder than hell. Farther up and he watched as the stars began to appear. Chief understood the concept but it had seemed strange that he had travelled so far and the same stars were there. Somehow they should be different.

Half an hour later and it was fully dark. Chief had expected him so he saw when the figure slipped out the door carrying a bundle. The way he carried himself and the way he moved just proved that it was Garrison. In spite of the dark the figure clung to the edges and approached the barn. Chief waited and watched, not moving until Garrison slipped up beside him.

"Come on in," he whispered. The Indian followed as his leader maintained his previous caution and returned to the shed.

Garrison had come up with a plan to help the Resistance based on the Doctor's information. A country doctor got to see a lot of the area. It would require travelling so Goniff was automatically to be left behind. He would be safer here. Chief was going to be the problem. With the pain of the fractured ribs restricting his breathing and his movements he should be left as well and that was not going to sit well with him. On the other hand his decision to take him with them and keep him happy when they left on this mission had caused him to be reinjured. This time he would do it right.

Once the men had gathered around in the dark he had distributed the blankets before he began.

"I talked to the Doctor and we have a way to carry out our mission. About twenty miles east north east of here, near Torhout, is our target. About six miles north of that, is an Ammo dump."

"So we get back what they stole from us," interrupted Casino with a smile that came through in his voice.

"Yes."

"Are you going to take the Resistance with us to the Ammo Dump?" asked Actor.

"And you better get us a car. I can't be walkin' that far," put in the injured pick pocket.

"You'll be staying here, and as for your question Actor," here it comes thought Garrison, "I figured the three of us could handle it." As expected, Chief figured it out.

"Whata you mean the three of you? You ain't leavin' me out."

"Chief," he began calmly only to be interrupted.

"No. I'm goin' with you."

Garrison waited a moment then continued. "I want you to stay with Goniff. He needs someone here in case something…"

"Ain't nothing gonna happen here. The Doc'll look after him. I'm goin' with you."

"Chief." Garrison's tone had changed from explaining to ordering. He rarely used orders because of his concern that these men would refuse to obey. This time he had no choice. He could not risk leaving Goniff, wounded, alone in enemy territory. And Chief's injury made him vulnerable. "You will stay here and that's an order." He waited to see how that was received. There was more he could use but he did not want to have to use it, yet.

No one spoke but Garrison knew this was not finished. All he could do was explain so he softened his tone and said, "Goniff can't get around. If the Germans showed up while we're gone, he's defenseless. With you here he'll at least have a chance. You could get him to safety."

"They ain't comin' here. I should be with you to protect you."

"No, not this time," he said gently. There was no reply but he wished he could see the Indian's face. Had he accepted it? There was nothing he could do for now so he let it go.

"What about transport?" asked the conman. "Do we have a vehicle?"

"One of the farmers closer to the coast comes by this way tomorrow picking up mail and trade goods. The three of us will hitch a ride with him to Veurne. From there we can get a vehicle or a ride to Zedelgem.

An hour before dawn the three men slipped out of the shed and headed for the road. Garrison wanted to be as far from the Doctor's place as possible to prevent speculation. The Doctor could not confirm that all his neighbors were loyal Belgians so it was best not to take the chance. As they walked and jogged, Garrison kept wondering if he was doing the right thing by leaving Chief and Goniff behind. With the Englishman's injured ankle he had to but was there another way?

He pushed that thought away. Second guessing himself was counterproductive. That left Chief. The man had stayed away from him when they got up. When he had tried to tell him to look after Goniff, Chief had stalked out of the shed and walked away. He certainly was not going to be good company for the pickpocket. All he could do was accomplish their mission and get back here as quickly as possible. His breathing was back to normal so he picked up the pace and began trotting again.

Back at the shed Goniff had watched the others go. It was still dark but there was enough light to see the figures when Garrison opened the door. Goniff didn't really like being left behind. Sure, he was safer here but he felt like he was letting the team down. He had even apologized to Casino. He said he understood and said it wasn't he fault but the Englishman knew. If he had been more careful then this would not have happened. He just hoped that the guys didn't need him on this mission.

At least he wouldn't be alone. Chiefy wasn't good company like Casino but he was better than no one. Beside he could fetch him stuff. The concept that Guardians were called dogs and dogs were taught to fetch did not cross his mind. He was a kind soul and would never stoop to such degradation. Casino did but not him.

Goniff had tried sleeping to pass the time but he was too cold even with the other's blankets. Maybe Chiefy would build a fire. Just before dawn he heard the shed door creak. Chiefy was back. Maybe he had brought breakfast?

It was well into morning before the three men stepped down from the wagon in Veurne. It was a beautiful ancient city, home to Gothic and Renaissance-style buildings. Garrison had been considering what sort of vehicle would be best but the choice was made easy for them. They had been passing a funeral parlour and they saw the hearse out back. Room in the back and most people avoided them. Perfect. A glance to see if anyone was watching and the three men headed into the building. They paid their respects to an older man then slipped out the back door. The tank was full and they were on their way toward Zedelgem.

Everything was going fine with Actor driving, Garrison navigating and Casino in the back with the 'deceased' until they reached Gistel. As expected they were stopped and questioned. Their papers said they were cemetery workers. Actor explained, in his best Funeral Director's manner, that they were taking the deceased to Zedelgem to be buried in the family plot. The soldier looked bored and they thought they were in the clear but instead of waving them through he told them to open the back. If he opened the coffin they were done. Actor had considered his story as he had driven. The vehicle had set their story base with them as cemetery workers. The details had been left to him. He could have said they were picking up a body but that did not make as much sense. A hearse from Zedelgem would have brought him. He had decided to go with the body was already on board. Now he wished he had gone with the other option. Too late now. He franticly scrambled to come up with a cover. Damn fools loaded the wrong coffin?

The two men got out of the vehicle and walked to the back, dreading what was to come. With just the two of them carrying hand guns facing a roadblock full of soldiers they could not shoot their way out and being trapped in a line of vehicles they could not drive away either. This looked bad.

Actor fumbled with the door latch as he thought of the best way to explain. Garrison stood to his side as he mentally prepared to be shocked and angry. He hoped Actor had a good story. Could he come up with one?

The con man swung the door open and looked expecting to see Casino sitting beside the coffin. He wasn't there. He quickly schooled his face back to neutral as if that was what he expected to see.

"Öffnen Sie es."

By now the two Allies had figured out what had happened. Sure enough, Casino was in the coffin. They were in the clear though neither man allowed their relief to showed. They were not in the clear yet.

The soldier shuffled through the papers, found Casino's and demanded to know why it had not been stamped with 'Verstorbenen'.

The conman stepped in, looked at the paperwork and began his explanation about bureaucrats and incompetence. He stopped with a shocked look on his face. Turning to his accomplice he asked in German if he thought they had stamped the wrong papers and one of their coworkers was now declared dead. Garrison played right along asking sarcastically, how could you tell the difference. The man was the laziest man he had ever seen.

Still the soldier was not finished. As Actor reached up to close the lid the German pulled out his Luger and pointed it at the 'deceased'. Both men held their breath. Casino had probably not breathed since the lid was opened. Actor calmly told the soldier, as if he were unconcerned, that the man was already dead, why waste the bullet. Save it for the Americans if they ever get here. If Garrison hadn't known Actor was the best he did now. He was so calm in the face of Casino being shot.

The soldier had wanted a reaction. This job gave you power of these civilians but it was boring as hell unless you scared a few people. That made it interesting. Let's see how far he could go. Stepping in closer he put the muzzle to the deceased's forehead and waited. Nothing. Did these people not care about their dead, he wondered. So calm and uncaring, no wonder they would lose the war. He gave up secure in the knowledge that he was superior to these sub humans. Holstering his weapon he dropped the papers on the ground and told them to move along.

Once they were seated inside again Actor drove until they reached the city limits on the other side. A cursory inspection of their papers and they were clear. As soon as they were out of sight Actor pulled over and they ran to the back.

"You fuckin' Bastards, let me outta here!" Casino was in full vent before the lid was even open. He was so upset that he continued to rant as he climbed out. "You stood there and let that bastard put a gun to my head and you said Nothing. What if he had fired? Is that all I'm worth? A dead body? You can all go to Hell! Now I know what I'm worth to the team. As long as you too guys are fine then who gives a fuck about the rest of us. You make me sick, both a you. All this talk about working together, helping each other, **protecting** each other. All Shit! You two work to protect yourselves. Bastards! Fuckin' scum suckin' Bastards! I'm done with this outfit. This time for real. You two useless pricks can finish this yourself. Now, Fuck off!" He stood tense, fists clenched just waiting for an opportunity to let fly as he sucked in lungful's of air. The two were better fighters than he was but he had anger and the fact that he didn't care. They might take him alive but he didn't care. It would be worth it.

"The safety was on."

"What?" demanded Casino suddenly deflated. "You knew he wasn't going to shoot me and you let me run off at the mouth like that?"

"You needed to get it off your chest. Feel better now?

"Yeah but still…

"I was beside him as well," said Actor, "and if he had started to pull the trigger I would have jarred his arm. The bullet would have missed you. You were quite safe."

Casino was still wound up and thought the two had explained that they had been looking out for him he had to let them know not to do that again.

"The two a you are so full of shit but we have a mission so I'll let it go for now. But the next time, I'm telling you, you need a body, don't look at me. It's one a you guys turns. Got it?"

"I have already taken my turn," said Actor as he and Casino turned to their leader, "At the Abbey, when we stole the jet engine."

Both men waited expectantly but Garrison just returned to his seat in the car and closed the door. Lowering the window he leaned out and said, "Let's go, gentlemen."

They drove on but pulled over before they reached Aartrijke. Garrison went around the back and explained to Casino that he was safe this time. Actor would tell the Germans that they were going to pick up a body. He did not have to be the deceased this time. Casino was relieved but had to put in his thoughts.

"Lucky for you, because I wasn't going to do it this time."

Garrison grinned and they carried on. Well prepared this time the soldier at the road block just waved them through. In town Actor parked and they had a bite to eat. Garrison wondered if the two back at the Doctor's place were getting enough to eat.

Their target was located in Vloetemveld, a wooded area. They knew it would be heavily guarded but Garrison figured the three could sneak in somehow. They drove past the entrance that was set well back from the road and pulled to consider their options. They could go into Zedelgem, steal uniforms and a vehicle to make a surprise inspection or they could try to breach the forest. They had seen a barricaded laneway that ran down the side of the forest. Under cover of darkness they could take the hearse right up to the fence for easy loading. There were still hours of daylight so they returned to Zedelgem. A survey of the town showed few opportunities for high ranking uniforms and suitable vehicles so they decided to try the least visible option.

Dusk followed them back to the forested Ammo Dump. By driving slowly they arrived at dark and made their way to the lane entrance. It took then some time moving the sand bags but between the three of them they had it cleared. Actor pulled the car through and they replaced the barricade without the sandbags. They might need to make a quick getaway. Farther down, the lane crossed the road that lead to the entrance. The lane entrance was again blocked. They removed this as well and continued on. When they were as close as they figured they could get Actor pulled the hearse off to the side and they scaled the fence. Using the limited moon light they made their way through the woods.

The compound where the Ammunition was stored was an open area. The crates and boxes of guns and ammunition were piled in the center leaving a clear path around the outside for the guards to patrol. By watching they worked out the guards' route and schedule. It was not that difficult to wait then run in and grab what they could carry. Once the close items were removed two men ducked into the center of the crates and began opening them with a pry bar. The other stayed at the tree line to watch for the guard's next pass. He would signal when it was clear.

Off in the distance Garrison spotted a familiar weapon and looked at it longingly. It was six tubes fused in a circle and angled upwards. Actor saw Garrison looking so he asked what it was.

"It's a Nebelwerfer. I saw one in action in North Africa."

"Can we disable it?" They both knew that taking it was impossible.

"If we have time." He turned back to the job at hand.

Two trips later Garrison gathered up three MG 34's and headed for where Casino was waiting to signal it was clear to leave. As he turned sideways to slip through the gap and head for the trees the guns shifted and two barrels clanked together. The guard had just passed so he was close enough to hear. Concerned he turned and began trotting back, rifle at the ready.

The two men were able to duck back but Garrison had nowhere to go. They froze. As they watched the soldier raised his rifle, aimed square at the Officer's chest, gurgled and sank to his knees. He paused there for a moment then toppled face first into the dirt. There was a knife protruding from his back.

Not knowing what to think but knowing they were out of time Garrison ran to the trees and made his way to the fence. He shoved the weapons through the hole they had cut and ducked through. As he was stowing his haul in the coffin he heard the rustle that said one of the others was here as well. Actor showed up at his elbow with belts of ammunition which he laid in their modified Ammunition box. Casino was hot on his heels.

"Please tell me you threw that knife," said Garrison as he eyed his safecracker. They had all been taught to use knives.

The moon light threw shadows over most of his face but there was enough to see that he was equally shocked. All he did was shake his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Judgement Call

Chapter 5

"Close the lid," whispered Garrison as he stood eying the trees. Actor stood watching as well. There was a click as the lid latched and then a scuff as it was pushed inside. There was no other sound.

"Where the hell is he?" whispered Casino. They knew it could only be one person though they hoped it was someone else. Still they waited. He couldn't be here? He was back with Goniff wasn't he?

Garrison remembered how Chief had ignored him when they left. Had he decided then that he was not going to obey? He should have confronted him and made him promise. Would he have broken his promise? And how had he gotten here?

Several minutes later a shadow drifted out from the trees. As soon as Garrison recognized the man he told him to get in back and the others returned to their seats with Garrison driving this time.

The only stops they made were to get the hearse through the barricades and then reassemble them. Without being told Garrison knew Chief would have removed the body and all evidence. They left no proof that someone had been there other than the hole in the fence.

By travelling the back roads they managed to avoid the cities where curfews were enforced. It took them longer than Garrison had hoped and there a few times when he was sure they were lost but they made it to their destination.

All entrances to the Wijnendalebos, once a hunting lodge for noble families, were now blockaded. The German Command probably suspected it could be used as a rebel base but could not spare the man power to actually patrol it. The three men got out to remove the blockade.

"Keep an eye open," he said to Chief as he moved toward the barricade.

"Warden." The word was said quietly and even as angry as he was Garrison heard the warning so he slowed, peering into the darkness. Two steps and he heard the rustle in the trees.

"There's three of'm, armed."

"Garrison?" asked an accented voice in the darkness.

"Yes."

The darkness shifted becoming a man as he approached. "We had given up hope. You are late."

"I'm sorry. We ended up coming in by air and were shot down. It took us time to get here."

"And the goods?"

"We lost them but we got more."

"Come. We will help but we must hurry." Two more men appeared from the dark and they began tearing down the blockade. When it was clear Chief got in the hearse and drove it through. The others climbed in and following directions Chief drove into the Groupe G's base. There were hot drinks and warm beds for all. Demonstrations would wait until morning.

Garrison wanted to have a private talk with Chief but he did not get the opportunity until morning.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The voice was not raised but the speaker was angry. Even his body was stiff with anger. "I ordered you to stay with Goniff and you disobeyed a direct order." This was not something that he could tolerate. He had managed to secure his position as the leader by not letting the cons buck him. Every order he had issued had been enforceable and with every refusal or subversion of his intent he had backed it up. Though they had come to respect him he could not afford to stop now. Not obeying had to have consequences. This particular disobedience was probably inconsequential to Goniff and had been beneficial to him but it still had to be punished. The cons were like children; let one get away with it and the rest would do the same.

Chief was unrepentant. He had made the decision and it had been the right one. "And it's a damn good thing I did or else you'd be dead. That guard had you cold. One more second…"

"I admit that it worked this time and you saved my life but what about Goniff? He can't even run if the Germans show up."

"There's more German's here than there. No one's gonna bother the Doc," he shot back.

That was when Garrison remembered he had not told them about the German car in the drive when he first approached the house. Chief had not known that and he probably had not heard the Doctor say they had to hide the blankets inside in case the place was searched. The more he thought about Goniff the more he knew he had to get back there. He had left an injured man alone.

No, Chief had left an injured man alone.

"That's not the point. The point is your disobedience. If I'm to trust you I have to know for sure that you are going to do as you're told."

"Like a good little Guardian," Chief shot back sarcastically. "Like a trained dog," he snarled. The phrase 'do as you're told' had long been a trigger for his temper.

"No. Like a soldier." He was angry but would not raise his voice like Chief had done.

"I ain't a soldier an' you weren't listening. Didn't you hear that you can't trust a Guardian? That's why they have to be drugged and controlled."

Garrison was not sure where this was going or quite how to defuse it but he knew how to stop it. "Is that what you want; to be drugged and controlled?"

It was only the bright light that allowed him to see the flash of fear that crossed his face before the angry look returned. He had not thought that through.

Fortunately for Chief the leader of the local Resistance, Baert, approached cautiously. Even with his limited English he could tell the two Americans were arguing. Garrison saw him and knowing that their time here was limited, said, "We'll finish this later." and he turned to their host.

The coffin had been unloaded and the weapons laid out. The group was divided into two with Garrison demonstrating and explaining the various items that the locals were unfamiliar with. Actor took over the second group and the explanations while Casino did the demonstration. Fortunately most knew how to fire a gun so they passed on the marksman trials.

Chief hung back and watched. He had known that Garrison would be upset that he had not stayed but he did not expect this much anger. Didn't he understand that a Guardian's place was with his Hearth and not sitting with a guy with a sprained ankle? Like a babysitter, he thought as his lip curled in disgust.

Without a look back Chief slipped off into the trees. It was peaceful here. Spring wildflowers were in bloom at the edges of the open areas that had been caused by fallen trees. He inhaled smelling the dampness and the rot but this was a good rot. It meant the earth was good for growing. More trees would start and grow until the strongest crowded the others out and filled the hole. That was the way of life. A bird called above him and was answered up ahead to the right. He looked up but all he saw was a flash as the bird flew away through the newly opening leaves. He loved spring for all its promise. This was a good place to be and he wished he could stay. Funny how he loved the desert with its wide open spaces and huge sky, its colored rocky canyons but this place drew him just like the place out back of their base. Part of it was forested too.

At peace he stopped to listen but not to the birds but to the heartbeat he carried. It was still there. Why was he so angry? Why had his Hearth been so mad? He was here where he was supposed to be, with his Hearth. Had his Hearth changed his mind? How happy he had been back there in Italy when he had picked up that sound. He could hear the sound of his Hearth's heartbeat.

Now? He concentrated and blocked out that sound and instead listened to the silence. Could he live that way again, so alone, lonely? Real people did it all the time… because they knew no other way. Maybe he would have been better off if he hadn't either. Garrison had changed his mind about being his Hearth. Having a Guardian was too much trouble. How many times had he had to yell at him or got angry at him? That was the only explanation. Somehow Chief would have to break the bond. With a heavy heart Chief took one last look around then turned and headed back to the camp.

When he arrived he saw Garrison and Actor standing together discussing something, probably the gun Actor was holding. Garrison spotted him and waved him over.

"We're about to leave so head over to the hearse after you get something to eat."

The Resistance had set up in the forest but forsaken any clearing fearing aerial surveillance. Instead they had built lean-tos and pitched tents including one that had been stolen from a German soldier. One large tent served as the kitchen. Casino was sitting outside eating a sandwich and balancing a can on his knee while sitting on a section of log. When he saw Chief he gestured inside.

Once he had got his food he came over and stood by his team mate. By this time Casino's sandwich was almost gone.

"Any idea what's in these cans?" he asked as he licked his fingers. Apparently the group had friends on a farm if the fried egg sandwich was any indication. As he popped the last bite into his mouth he picked up the can and examined it. German rations. Using the large commando knife he had been given he opened the can. Peaches. Lacking utensils he tipped up the can and drank the juice before cutting the fruit and eating them.

"What'd you get? he asked as he looked for somewhere to put the can.

"Didn't take one," he said then continued to chew.

"Why not? They weren't bad."

"Didn't know what was in'm."

Casino shrugged as he stood and wandered over to the box where someone else had put their can. A bucket of soapy water stood beside it. Wash water for greasy sticky fingers. Both men washed up then headed for the hearse.

"Hey, how'd you get here anyway?"

"I stole a horse."

"Not that old guy that helped us?"

"Nah."

"Good." They continued in silence. They returned to the hearse and waited. Chief wondered if he would be allowed to drive. Casino spotted one of the women in the camp and proceeded to admire her. She noticed and returned the admiration.

Four men approached the vehicle. The two Allies flanked Baert and another younger man. The leader of the Resistance looked stern but the other looked forlorn. When they were several paces away the two Belgians stopped and the older put his arms around the younger and hugged him. The gesture was returned. Actor headed for the passenger side front and said, "We are bringing his son with us."

"Son doesn't look too pleased," added Casino who was back to looking at the woman after a quick glance.

"He is not. He wishes to stay and fight."

"Chief, in the back." That was all he said as he strode to the back door. The son disengaged from his father and he too came to the back.

"Be more room in here if we dumped the coffin," offered Casino.

"We may need it if we're stopped."

"Hey, I already told you I ain't being the body, no more, uh uh. It's Chief's turn."

"His son is known to the local Nazi. We may have to hide him inside. If we stop you make sure he's inside. Got it?"

"Yeah. He know that?"

"Yeah. He's no happier about it than you were. Let's go." The three men climbed inside. It was a tight fit with the coffin but it was better than walking or riding bareback fast, thought Chief.

It was dusk as they pulled out of the former hunting preserve. Garrison hoped by running in the dark that there would be less traffic. Again they would bypass the towns. Up front the driver was grim. Actor thought he understood. Baert had asked him if there was a problem between Garrison and the silent one. He had seen the tension. Actor had smoothed it over with a 'nothing to worry about'. Sometimes soldiers forget their discipline. The Belgian had smiled at that. He said he understood since it was worse when dealing with civilians. That was Actor's opportunity to reveal their background but he let it pass. These people had enough to worry about without adding to it. The thought that a crack team of covert soldiers had come to help them was more of a morale booster than the dregs of society.

Actor was sure the tension was because Chief had disobeyed his order leaving Goniff alone and disabled. He wondered how the Englishman was doing. Hopefully he was all right and not eating the Doctor and his wife out of house and home. The thin soup meant food was scares.

The conman stole a glance at the driver as he wondered what he would do about Chief. The boy had saved his life but to maintain order he could not disregard disobedience. What did the Army do to soldiers who disregarded orders? Were they court martialed? The Army could not court martial Chief but Garrison could send him back… to G-CAT. Would he go that far knowing how bad it was there and what would happen to the man who had just saved his life? Maybe KP duty for a month?

"What do you plan to do about Chief?" he asked casually. Sometimes there was no need for subterfuge, just come right out and ask. This way maybe he could keep the Warden from going overboard.

"Later," was the curt reply.

Either he had not decided or he wanted to finish his talk with Chief first. All Actor could do was hope he was nearby to moderate if necessary.

In back all was silent. Occasionally someone shifted in hopes of finding a more comfortable position but no one spoke. The Belgian was worried about his future. Someone had identified him to the local German Commander so he had to leave. These Americans were taking him to another group he could be a part of. Casino was worried about Goniff being all alone and Chief was worried about Garrison's reaction.

They were nearing their destination when they saw the fire up ahead. As they neared the two up front felt their heart rates pick up. It was a road block. For one to be here either something was going on or else some poor smuck had angered his superior.

Garrison slowed and stopped at the barricade and waited for the soldier to approach. He was not alone. Maybe the whole squad was on discipline. Garrison explained that they were on their way home to bury a relative. He handed over the papers and sat looking bored and tired. The last part he did not have to fake. Slowly the guard examined each paper using his flashlight. He examined Garrison and Actor's faces then told him to open the back.

It was cold and windy when they got out. When Actor opened the door the others climbed out. Good, the Belgian was in the coffin. Hopefully he could play dead as well as Casino but just in case they added a special touch.

When the guard told them to open it the two men looked aghast. The guard got suspicious and raised his weapon. Actor pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and made a great show of covering his nose and mouth. He then took a deep breath and leaned back as he reached for the latch. Garrison stepped back and turned his head.

The guard was worried now. Would it explode? Should he just shoot them now? He aimed his rifle at Actor and prodded him as he asked him what he was doing.

Actor explained that the deceased had been dead for over a week and he was going to smell very bad. The smell of a rotting corpse was something you never forgot.

The soldier had never smelled a rotting corpse and had no wish to do so. He withdrew and waved them through. They were in the clear. They all climbed in and were back on the road.

When they reached their destination they had to coast the last quarter mile. The tank was empty. This group of fighters welcomed the new man to their roster and offered to put the Gorillas up for the night. As much as they all wanted to get back to Goniff they had no transport and walking in the dark the considerable distance to get there was unwise. They slept.

The next morning the leader of this cell arranged a ride close to their destination. From there they walked the two miles in the early light. Fortunately the wind had died down and the air held a promise of warmth so it was a good day for walking. They might have enjoyed it if they hadn't been worried. Goniff had been left alone for too long.

Casino hoped his pal was all right. A silent Goniff was no fun, even a complaining Goniff was better than that. Hopefully he would be back to his mischief making normal self by the time they got there. Probably play up his ankle for a bit for the sympathy. Probably complain about being left for so long. He would go along with him for a bit to make up for that. That was fair.

Actor considered the injury. He had not felt a break though it was possible that it was a fracture. Had the Doctor examined it close enough? You would think that he would keep an eye on it. How long would he be laid up if it was fractured? Would the Army allow him to stay at their base when they were away? They would not send him back to prison, would they?

Garrison's thoughts were along a similar line. He worried that the busy little Englishman might pester the Doctor and his wife. Goniff would get bored sitting out in that shed all alone. Had they taken him inside where it would be warmer? And what about the searches that the Doctor had hinted at? Would they have enough time to hide Goniff?

Chief had been sure of his decision to leave him here; that he would be safe here. Garrison's anger at him for leaving had introduced doubts. Sure he had disobeyed but he didn't think it was so bad unless Garrison knew of a reason. Did he suspect trouble here? That would explain why he had been so angry. Was Goniff in trouble? He pictured a German soldier aiming his rifle at Goniff and him with his hands raised. They wouldn't hurt him would they? Maybe rough him up a bit but Chief's mind refused to picture the happy-go-lucky pickpocket badly hurt. A sense of dread sat in his stomach and began to grow the closer they got. He had to be all right.

The land here was flat so they saw the Doctor's house off in the distance. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Just to be careful they walked past the house with just a casual glance. The Doctor was home; his car was in the driveway beside the house. Was the front door open? Maybe the Doctor was bringing in groceries and had not closed the door behind him. He would get it on the next trip. They continued walking until they reached the next wood lot. No one was around so they slipped into the trees.

They came up behind the barn and slipped along the side. The farm house all was quiet. There were no signs of trouble but they all sensed something wrong. Garrison gestured to Casino who was beside him to come with him and for the other two to check the shed. As Garrison approached the front door he saw that it was still open. With weapon drawn he stepped inside.

The living room was as he remembered it. The room was small, the furniture old but comfortable. There were small cushions on the sofa and one on the chair. An afghan was lying over the back ready to keep someone cozy. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen and he knew. There were broken pieces of crockery on the floor, a chair was up ended but the worst was the substantial amount of dried blood on the floor by the table leg. He and Casino moved silently up the stairs but the two bedrooms there were undisturbed. Quickly they moved back outside.

Actor and Chief looked to make sure the way was clear and then moved to the shed. Chief had already peeked into the barn and saw it was empty. He could not see the loft. The Italian called softly to their team mate then opened the door. The tractor and wooden wagon were still there as were the other various farm implements. Nothing had been disturbed. There was no Goniff. Actor turned to go back to the house but Chief pushed past him and went in. He looked frantically behind the tractor and under the wagon. He even looked in the corners.

"Chief, he is not here."

"He has to be. This is where I …" He could not finish that thought, 'I left him'.

Actor understood. Chief felt guilty. "Let us see what Garrison has found."

Like a beacon in a storm Chief grabbed on to that thought and almost ran out of the shed. As they crossed the yard they saw their team mates coming out the back door of the house. They were alone and the look on their faces told them the news. All Bad.

Chief was devastated. After Garrison had left he had tried to stay but the drive to go was too strong. He had come in and told him that he 'had to go after'm'. Goniff had looked hurt and reminded him what Garrison had told him about staying. Chief had told him that he 'would be all right here' that he was 'sorry' and had handed him one of his knives and left. He had left him alone to be caught by the Nazi's. What had they done to him? What ever happened was his fault. If he had stayed then he and Goniff could have taken off. He would have heard the German's coming maybe in time to warn the Doc and his wife. Instead he was heading across the country to be with his Hearth. All thoughts that he had saved Garrison's life were gone.

"They've been taken."

Garrison relayed the information about the kitchen and then said, "We have to find them." Veurne was probably the biggest town. They would try there first. Everyone ran to the Doctor's car parked beside the house. Garrison reached the driver's door, yanked it open and stopped. Slumped across the seat was the Doctor's body. He had been shot in the head.

Carefully they removed the body and took it inside. As they lay him out on the sofa Actor and Casino crossed themselves. Chief and Garrison bowed their heads in silent prayer before they went back to the car. Ideally they would bury him but Goniff and his wife might not be able to wait. With Chief at the wheel they headed into town.

The first indication they saw was a staff car parked in a driveway on the outskirts of the town. Garrison and Chief approached the building. A back room window showed two figures lying in bad. The man was smoking a cigarette. When they got up and headed for the kitchen Garrison opened the window and Chief crawled in and took the uniform, handed it out the window before he too exited. Meanwhile out front Casino was waiting to hotwired the car. The other three pushed it as far as they could then he started it and they left. A few blocks over they both pulled over and Garrison became a German Officer. A few minutes later they found a Dry Cleaners and Actor became his superior, the other two driver and aide. Now to find the Headquarters.

As Chief drove down the road he was directed to pull over to where a soldier was waiting. A few stern words and they were on their way.

The local Headquarters was in a large impressive looking stone building. It had probably been a town hall before the war. Nazi flags decorated the front. Chief parked the car and then opened Actor's door. Casino did the same for Garrison. The ranking Officer was clearly upset as he strode up the front steps with the other officer and two aides following at his heels. Casino managed to get in front and open the door and they all trooped inside. Actor demanded to see the Commandant and was told to wait. Instead he strode in through, interrupting a meeting with several civilians.

The Commandant was incensed since Actor was the same rank as he was. Actor went on the offensive demanding to know where the prisoners were and what he thought he was doing by arresting them. That got his attention. They were spies, he insisted, and he had arrested them.

Actor demanded they be turned over to him for interrogation. Of course the real German refused. Has he told you about the sabotage in at the Ammo Dump asked Actor? I will take him back there and confront him with his fellow conspirators. They will tell me what I want to save the others. Now bring them here or I will have to let our leader know how you bungled this. Killing the Doctor was a very big mistake. Act now and I will down play your role in that.

The Commandant's resolve was weakening. He asked why he had not been told about the sabotage and the conman told him arrogantly that only the trusted had been told.

That did the trick. They were told to follow and he led them to the basement. A heavy wooden door was opened and after some fumbling a light was turned on. What they saw horrified them. It was a small room, designed for storage now occupied by two bodies. If they were alive it was just barely.

Actor barked and his aides hurried in and tried to tend to their injuries. The steps were too steep and narrow to allow a stretcher so they would have to be carried. Casino and Chief took the man and two real Germans took the woman. The victims were propped up in the back seat and they were on their way with Casino driving. Once they were far enough away Chief turned in his seat to watch Actor trying to help Goniff. Garrison announced that the woman was dead. They all feared for their teammate's life but they mourned for the brave Doctor and his wife. They had worked together to save Allied lives. Now in death they were parted. Could they get someone to take her back home so they could be buried together?

They finally reached the coast where Garrison had been told help could be found. A stop at a pharmacy for supplies for Goniff and then they drove to the safe house.

Goniff was carried in and placed on a bed where Actor set to cleaning him up while Chief got rid of the car. By the time he returned Actor had cleaned the blood off his hands and face. Chief knew he had caused this so he went in the room to apologize but when he saw his face he blanched and retreated outside. He wanted to put that image out of his mind but couldn't. Goniff's face was swollen over his left cheekbone. Both eyes were blackened and swollen shut. His lip was split. Even his hands were bruised and his wrists abraded. He had done this with his own hands. The agony of the admission sank him to his knees and the pain in his heart dropped his head to his chest. Tears of grief and remorse fell from his eyes.

The Gorillas took turns sitting with the injured man. He was silent at first, lying so still. Then the fever started and cool cloths were applied. When Chief moved the blanket to cool his chest he saw the bruises there as well. He tried to apologize but his throat closed allowing no sound to come out. It was all he could do to keep from crying. This was all his fault.

Goniff remained unconscious until it was time to get him onto the fishing boat. Chief hoped to ease his guilt by making sure he was helping. Garrison knew what he was doing so allowed Chief to take the head of the stretcher. Casino took the other end. The move from the dock to the boat resulted in some jostling which elicited a moan from the injured man. Casino was very worried about his friend and he blamed the Indian. He had left him so when he heard the moan he shot daggers at the offender. The moan had cut deeply into Chief's heart. The look of hatred on his team mate's face added to his misery.

The trip to England was a very quiet one, at least verbally. They all worried about Goniff but no one spoke. When they finally reached the dock in England their injured companion was whisked away in and Ambulance. They wanted to accompany him but another car appeared to take the cons to their base. Garrison went to London to debrief after giving them all orders to stay at their base.

Chief went outside, Casino brooded in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and Actor headed for the library. Sometime later Actor appeared and poured himself a cup.

"I called the hospital." Casino's head jerked up. "Goniff is resting comfortably. He was given a transfusion and they expect a full recovery."

"Hey, that's great news. So when's he coming home?" he asked eagerly.

"The Doctor expects to release him tomorrow if there are no complications.

"Do you know where Chief is?"

"No, and I don't care," he said angrily. "It's all his fault. If he had stayed as he was told…"

"Casino. Chief feels bad enough as it is."

"Not bad enough. I say I smack him around to let him know…"

"Casino," barked the conman. "You will do no such thing. If there is any smacking to be done then it is up to Goniff."

"Maybe so but one word from him and I'll do it. Low down …"

"Casino!"

The safecracker grunted and went back to his coffee which was cold by now.

The next morning Garrison was bombarded at breakfast for an update on the Englishman. He finally surrendered and took his coffee to his office to make the call. Returning later he announced that Goniff would be released just before lunch. They chuckled as they pictured how he would manage to get a before he left. Casino figured he would steal it as he was wheeled down the hall and Actor thought he would talk a pretty girl into getting it for him. What ever happened they knew he would ask for something to eat when he got there.

They were all wrong. Goniff was groggy from the painkillers he had been given. More pills came home with him. The swelling had receded some but the bruising was still in full bloom heading for the purple and yellow. He looked bad. The others fussed over him as they got him settled in a room by himself. He needed a proper bed and closer access to the bathroom. Because he was still weak he would need someone to help him to and from the facilities. Garrison set up a rotation so there was someone there at all times. Garrison would not like that but Goniff was social, he would appreciate it even though he slept most of the time.

It was Chief's turn after dinner and he came and sat in the chair beside the bed. Goniff opened his eye; the other was still swollen shut, so Chief asked if he wanted a drink. Goniff nodded so he helped him up and put the cup to his lips. When he finished he lay him back down. He wanted to tell him he was sorry but the eye closed and his opportunity vanished. He had to tell him but the guilt was too big for words. He would have to show him how sorry he was. The voice in his head told him to do it.

With a last look at the sleeping man he moved to the side of the bed and proceeded.

_(This chapter and subsequent are dedicated to our Goniff Hurt Comfort fans.)_


	6. Chapter 6

Judgement Call

Chapter 6

Hours later Garrison looked at the clock. He was due to spell Chief. Turning off the lights in his office he headed for the stairs. Goniff's door was half closed so he pushed it open allowing the light from the hall to enter.

What he saw did not make sense. Chief was kneeling on the floor at the side of the bed facing it. He had removed his shirt.

"Chief?" he said as he stepped into the room and came up beside him. That was when he saw what the Indian was doing. He raced to the door, stuck his head into the hall and bellowed the Italian's name. He then ran back in.

"Chief, give me the knife." Chief was kneeling, wearing only his shorts, with his right arm extended along his thigh. In his left hand was his knife which he held across his arm. Both arms were bloody as were his thighs. He was methodically cutting himself.

"Not 'til he sees. I have to show'm." Chief's voice was shaky as the knife slid across his arm leaving a trail of blood.

"He's sleeping, Chief. You don't want to wake him do you? He needs his sleep."

"I gotta keep doing this until he sees."

Actor burst into the room and almost fell over the two at the side of the bed. He had assumed Goniff was in trouble. He turned back and hit the light switch. In that moment of confusion Garrison grabbed Chief's hand and knocked the knife loose. It clattered harmlessly to the floor.

"Chief, let's get you cleaned up," said Garrison calmly as he tried to lift him to his feet.

"Not 'til he sees." Chief resisted. "He has to see so he'll know."

"Know what?"

"He'll know how sorry I am."

"By cutting yourself?"

"By the blood. The more you bleed the more it shows how sorry you are. You have to keep bleeding until you're forgiven." He looked at his arms and then his hand as if wondering where his knife had gone.

"Chief," said Garrison, "there's enough blood on the floor for him to see when he wakes up. Now let's get you cleaned up."

"No, he has to see." Unable to find his knife he turned his nails on his arm and tried to scratch his arm.

Garrison saw his intent and he grabbed his arm. Actor returned at that moment with towels. Between them they wrapped his arms. Chief tried to fight but the blood loss had weakened him and the others added their fear for his life to their determination.

"He has to see…" Chief wailed as the dragged him out of the room and down to the bathroom to get him washed up. As he stood in the shower he saw the blood running down the drain and he tried to scratch himself again. "He has to see."

Garrison climbed into the tub behind the Indian and grabbed his wrists. "There's blood on the floor in his room. He'll see that."

"Your blood is on the towels too. We will show him that too."

"It's not enough," he said weakly surrendering to the inevitable. He was too tired to fight anymore. Another towel was bloodied as they dried him and bandaged his arms and thighs. He lay on the floor weak from blood loss and drained of all will. He had failed. Goniff would never know how sorry he was.

His arms were forced into a coat and he was ushered outside and into a car. They were going to get rid of him but he no longer cared. Only when he saw the hospital did he realize what they were doing.

"I can't go in there." Hospitals were for real people and besides he didn't deserve to be helped.

"They don't know who you are and they don't care. You lost too much blood. Let's go."

He wanted to fight but he didn't have the energy. An IV was eventually hooked up and the three men were left in a cubicle with the nurse's promise to return.

"Who told you, you had to bleed until you were forgiven?" asked Actor.

Chief shrugged. He was a failure, a useless failure. How could he ever look Goniff in the eye again?

"Have you ever done this before? Cut yourself like this?" asked Garrison. He too was curious.

Chief considered for a moment. Garrison deserved an answer. "Yeah. But I didn't do the cutting."

"Who did?" the question was asked gently. There was no accusation or anger. When there was no answer he asked, "Where were you?"

He thought back. He remembered kneeling on the… cement. "I was at G-Cat. I had to show I was sorry for…"

"Of all the bullshit they taught you at G-CAT, do you think that maybe this is bullshit too? Do you think that you really have to cut yourself and bleed to express how sorry you are? When I'm sorry for something I did I go to that person and I apologize to them. When Casino shot you he didn't cut himself, he apologized; he told you he was sorry.

"Guardians are different."

"No, They Are Not," insisted Actor." You are just the same as we are. I do not want you to ever bleed for me and I can assure you that no one else does either." He anger eased and he added, "An apology to Goniff is all that is required."

"But you saw how hurt he was. If I had stayed…," His voice tapered off then returned stronger. "I owe him in blood." His evaluation as a failure was falling but he still felt the massive debt he owed to Goniff.

"You owe him an apology and maybe help him until he gets strong enough to do for himself. He's not going to be able to manage the stairs for a while."

Chief nodded. He could do that, if Goniff would let him. What if he didn't accept his apology?

"Did you say anything to Chief about being responsible for Goniff's injuries?" asked Actor sternly as he strode into the room the cons shared. It was early morning. Casino had told him that he held Chief responsible and had even offered to smack him around for it.

"You mean like how if he had stayed like he was supposed to that the Doctor and his wife would still be alive and Goniff wouldn't look like that? No, but I shoulda." Casino lay on his cot. He had thought to sleep in but Actors accusations and tone brought him wide awake.

"We just brought Chief home from the hospital where he had a blood transfusion." It was not an accusation but a statement of fact.

"A transfusion?" That caught his attention and he sat up. "What for?"

"The Warden found him beside Goniff's bed last night cutting his arm." Actor went and sat in his chair exhausted from the night's struggles and worry.

"He tried to commit suicide?"

"Apparently he feels bad enough about what happened that day without you saying anything." He laid his head back against the chair back and closed his eyes.

"Yeah," said Casino in awe. Suicide was serious.

"I would appreciate you not saying anything about that. Maybe say something to help him forgive himself."

"Yeah, sure." Casino couldn't quite picture Chief committing suicide. The kid was a fighter. He must have really felt bad. He turned to the con man but he looked to be asleep. "Just so you know, I never said anything about it to him. You're the only one I said it to." There was no response. Actor had succumb to his exhaustion.

Later Goniff woke slowly. Sleep was the only place he didn't hurt. Mind you the dreams were terrible but as he returned to consciousness the dreams faded and the pain returned.

"How you feeling?"

Goniff turned to see the Warden sitting beside the bed. He looked tired and worried. Oddly, his uniform was rumpled like he had slept in it. Unusual.

"Would you like to have breakfast down stairs with the rest of us? I got you a wheelchair."

Goniff started to stretch but with the first twinge thought better of it and just nodded. It would be good to see the rest of the guys. With Garrison's help he got up, put on his robe and was assisted to the chair. Actor came to help with the stairs and he was soon in the dining room. Casino was there too to welcome him and ask after his health. It was good to be home. The food arrived but there was someone missing.

"Where's Chiefy? 'E already eat?" He looked around in the silence where no one would meet his eye. Something was wrong. "Warden?"

"Chief felt bad about leaving you and he… he cut himself last night."

"'E tried to commit suicide?" He pushed himself away from the table. "Where is 'e?" he asked anxiously. "Is 'e all right? 'E's not dead is 'e?"

"No, Goniff, he is in his room sleeping. The Warden took him to the hospital and they gave him a transfusion. He will be all right."

"Can I see 'im?"

"He should be sleeping. Have something to eat first."

"No," he answered as he tried to propel himself without hurting his hands. "I want to see 'e's all right first."

Garrison and Actor stood and proceeded to take the Englishman to see Chief. As they pushed him into the room Chief looked up. He was awake.

This was the moment of truth for Chief. He wanted desperately to be forgiven so he did what he thought would best show his remorse. He slid out of bed and knelt on the floor with head bowed.

Goniff had thought to just see him sleeping and know he was alive but when he knelt he was overwhelmed. This was not necessary. Maybe an 'I'm sorry', but not this.

"Chiefy, please stand up." His voice was husky with emotion. "I can't talk to you like this. Please, at least sit on the bed."

"I'm sorry Goniff, I was wrong. I wanted to show you how sorry I was. I wanted you to know."

"You didn't have to try an' kill yourself."

Chief looked up. "I wasn't tryin' to kill myself. I just had to bleed for you to show you."

"Well you didn't 'ave to. Besides, you know how I feel about the sight of blood. If I'd seen ya, I probably would passed out anyway.

"When you left I told you I understood why you 'ad to go. I did think that it 'ad to do with what I said about, you know, but you said you felt you were needed more there than with me. That 'urt a bit but I understood. You made a judgement call and that was to go 'elp the Warden. You even left me your best knife which," he looked down, "I lost when the Jerries caught me. I'm sorry about that. I'll get you a new one."

"I just wanted you to know how bad I felt for getting you hurt the way I did. I was wrong to leave you and I'm sorry. I'll never leave you like that again."

"Sure you will."

Chief's head jerked up; horrified. He didn't believe him. He thought he was lying.

"You'll do what's right for the team, and what the Warden says," Goniff added quickly. "Cause that's 'oo you are. You don't 'ave to be my bodyguard, just a member of this team, 'elping everyone, even me."

"Thanks Goniff," said Chief humbly. He still felt bad especially when he looked at him and saw the injuries but Goniff had lifted the deadweight that had pinned him since the moment he saw him in that storage room.

"Now let's go 'ave some breakfast and that means you too, Chiefy." Chief stood and stepping in behind the wheel chair he began to manoeuver him out into the hall. The two taller men exchanged looks. They both marvelled at what Goniff had done. They knew he had a big heart but how he had managed to bring Chief around, even apologizing for losing Chief's knife. He had made it possible for Chief to apologize without tearing him down completely. He had left Chief's dedication intact. He was a remarkable man and certainly an asset on this team.

They all headed down for breakfast. Four started eating while Garrison headed to his office to take a phone call.


	7. Chapter 7

Judgement Call

Chapter 7

The four cons were still eating when Garrison showed up at the table, his phone call completed. Actor, who was the closest, fixed a plate with the last of the eggs and toast and placed it in front of their leader. He then poured him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks Actor."

"You are welcome." He waited until the Officer had finished his meal before he spoke again. "Have you heard from London?"

"No."

"May I have a twenty four hour pass to go to London? I have some unfinished business I would like to take care of."

Garrison saw the sharp look Chief directed toward the Italian and he wondered what the conman was up to. "We're on stand-by. Eight hours is the most I can give you but I have to know where you'll be at all times in case we're called."

"That would be sufficient. I would like Chief to accompany me."

"What?" asked Casino sharply as Goniff looked on in surprise.

"I lost a bet to Chief and so I owe him a new suit."

"You lost a bet to him? What was the bet?" Casino was confused and suspicious. Actor sounded sincere, naturally, but instead of the look of a winner Chief looked embarrassed.

"That is unimportant. What is important is that I pay my debts in a timely fashion." Actor turned to Garrison and said, "Eight hours will be sufficient but we must leave within the half hour if we are to make the train."

While Garrison went to his office to fill out the required paperwork Actor started to clear the table. Chief stood up to help. As he reached across in front of Goniff to get his cutlery he noticed a smell that he was unfamiliar with. Was it from the painkillers? Or was something wrong with him. It smelled like something bad. He should tell someone one but who. Actor? Maybe tell Garrison. Or had he imagined it? He tried to manoeuver himself into a position where he could smell his breath without being obvious. Goniff had pushed himself away from the table so his opportunity was gone.

"Are you ready to go?" asked Actor.

Chief knew what was coming and he dreaded it but he had no excuse. "Yeah."

"If you will get our passes, I will get my shoes and we can be on our way."

This was his chance to mention it to Garrison but then it could be nothing and he would look like an idiot. He would say nothing.

Actor sat comfortably on the train. He enjoyed this mode of transport, the time to just sit and watch his fellow travellers or watch the sights going by. Chief preferred going by car, if he was driving. He enjoyed the feeling of control. He felt so powerless in much of his life so it was the little things that meant so much to him. Oddly jumping out of an airplane left him at the mercy of gravity and the wind but he loved the freedom. This train ride was especially uncomfortable because it was taking him to something he dreaded, getting fitted for this suit that Actor said was the payoff from a bet. Speaking of, "What'm I supposed to say when Casino asks what this bet was?"

"Like I said, that was between us. You do not have to tell him," he answered with a smile. Actor knew that would drive Casino crazy. He was not above tormenting the safecracker.

Chief did not like that answer. He would not have had to ask when he had first joined this outfit but now he wanted to fit in and that meant not having secrets. He would have to come up with something. What could he win at? Actor know he was good at darts and would never challenge him at that. So what could he win at?

Actor had watched the young man as he sat stony faced looking out the window but knowing Chief he saw the worry in his reflection. Chief wanted an answer. "You could tell him that I saw a pretty lady."

"And I bet you that she would turn you down."

"Such a blow to my ego," he said dramatically with a hand over his heart. Chief smiled. "But yes, that would work. It turns out that her husband was across the room. I saw that she wanted to but because he was watching she had to say no. There, you won the bet." He grinned pleased to have solved the problem without destroying his reputation.

Chief's mind switched to the next thing worrying him. "Do ya think Goniff's gonna be all right? You don't think there's something… I don't know… something wrong with'm?"

"The doctor at the hospital released him. I am sure he checked him over. Do you have a specific concern or are you just worried about him?"

"I don' know. It's probably nothing." He looked away.

"What is it?" Actor knew Chief was astute. He watched and he listened.

"Yer gonna think this is stupid…"

"Chief, I do not think I have ever heard you say anything stupid. Go ahead. What makes you uneasy about Goniff?"

Chief continued to stare out the window before muttering, "He smells bad."

"I take it that you do not mean body odour."

Chief looked back puzzled until Actor lifted his arm and tipped his head toward his arm pit. Chief shook his head. "His breath an' I don't mean like a bad tooth."

"A bad tooth has a smell?" When he thought about it, it made sense, he had just never thought about it before. "I guess it would. This is something else you smelled."

Chief's lips thinned. "It's probably nothin'. Forget I said anythin'." He turned back to the window signalling the conversation had ended.

Actor thought back. Goniff had looked a bit peaked and he had not eaten much. He had put it down to his injuries. Was there something else? Had the beating done internal damage that the Doctor had missed? He would make this trip as short as he could. It was a shame that he could not show more of the high life to Chief but his question had raised some doubts.

The day was mild and the cloud cover was thin when the two men disembarked from the train. The platform was crowded but Actor's height made it easy for Chief to track him through the throng. The taxi took them directly to their destination.

Chief followed Actor out of the car but remained at the curb as it pulled away. Actor understood and spoke quietly. "Just relax and remember the end result. When this is done you will have a suit that will fit you perfectly. This is the basis for a gentleman's wardrobe." He saw that that was not enough of an incentive so he reconsidered.

"Once we are inside, keep your eye on me. Concentrate on how relaxed I am. Ignore the tailor like you would ignore an insect. Can you do that?" he asked with a smile.

"I'll try. It's just…" Bad memories sharpened the worry lines around his eyes and between his brows.

"Yes, but you can do this. I have seen you step into the line of fire without hesitation. This is much easier than that." He watched for a moment then added, "Come, let us get this done and then we will have some lunch before we return to our base and check on Goniff."

That did the trick. With a steading breathe the Guardian took a step and then another.

Inside the Tailor was glad to see them. He told Actor that he worried that something had happened to them. These were dangerous times. Actor laughed it off and went to the shelf where the shirts were laid out. The Tailor had no idea how dangerous the times were. He picked one out and held it up to Chief as the tailor went to get the suit pieces he had basted together. Throughout the ordeal Actor remained in front of or within eyesight of the reluctant recipient of his largess. He kept up an easy banter with the tailor as he worked. When he saw Chief begin to hyperventilate he distracted the tailor with a question about some material he was examining. He did not need to know but it pulled the tailor away and allowed Chief to calm himself before they resumed.

Finally it was done and the suit was removed. Chief bolted as usual and when Actor joined him outside he smiled and told him he had done well.

"Is it because of what happened at G-CAT…" was all he got out before Chief interrupted angrily.

"NO!" he shouted as he turned and started walking away angrily.

"I'm sorry Chief. I didn't mean to pry." He hurried to catch up. "I would like to help you. It hurts me to see you in so much pain. You have so much potential."

"Don't ever say that again," he ground out. "I don't want to think about that. It's always there." He stopped and turned on the Italian. "I don't need you reminding me." The look on his face was pure anger, killer anger.

"I am sorry and I will never mention that again." He watched as Chief turned his head away and took several deep breaths.

"This was a mistake," he said before looking back to the conman. "I shoulda never let you talk me inta this."

"Having a suit is never a mistake." He was at a loss at this change of heart. The hardest part was over.

"Don't you see? Yer tryin' ta make me into somethin' I'm not. I'm a G…" He caught himself as he looked around in fear. Had anyone heard what he almost said? No one had taken notice so he lowered his voice. "I'm a Guardian dog. I ain't no gentleman an' I'll never be one. Yer wasting your time an' yer money. Go back an' tell'm ta forget it."

"Chief! A gentleman is not bred. A gentleman is how he acts, what he does, how he comports himself. I will teach you how to act until it becomes second nature to you. You already have the heart of a gentleman." His voice became stern. "And as I have promised never to mention certain things to you I want a promise from you that you will never refer to yourself as a dog again." He paused watching intently. "Promise me," he added insistently.

Chief was caught off guard. He was a dog. That was what Guardians were called. They were trained dogs. That was all he would ever be. "But…"

"No," interrupted Actor. "You are a man. You obviously trust the Lieutenant. To him you a man, not a dog. He treats you like a man. Now it is time for you to step up and act your true nature. You are a man, a man who will have a gentleman's suit the next time we return. Promise me you will not say that again."

In a small voice he whispered, "All I can do is try."

"That is all I ask." He stepped back and said lightly, "Now, let us have some lunch."

Fortunately they were early so they were able to get a table and fast service. Actor let the young man consider the menu and then as he had the last time he talked about a few of the menu options and told him what he was going to order. When they began to eat Actor prompted him to slow down by asking if he could detect a certain flavor but he knew Chief was eager to get back. His suspicions about Goniff's health were weighing heavily on his mind as well.

The two men arrived early at the station and heard the announcement that the train had been delayed so they had time to wait. As they sat Chief began to wonder what it would be like if Actor had been his Hearth. He wasn't but he couldn't help wondering. Would he have taken him places like Rome and Paris like he talked about? That would be exciting but then he thought about what Actor did. Actor loved the ladies and what lady would want him around? Actor would have to leave him somewhere while he wined and dined. He couldn't leave him at the hotel in case he wanted to bring her back there. And it got worse. Actor couldn't even take him to a nice place because his manners would embarrass him and show him to be the dog, yes, dog, that he was. Stupid idea.

That led to the thought about what would happen with Garrison. Someday when the war was over he was going to meet someone he wanted to wine and dine and impress. No lady wanted a dog hanging around. Garrison had to know this. At the end of the war Chief had fantasies about staying with Garrison. In the harsh light of reality they were just stupid childish fantasies. Throw them out. When the war ended and their six months were over could he take off? Would Garrison let him go? He played by the rules; would he break them so he could go free for as long as he could? The war did not look to be ending anytime soon. Who knew, he might not even survive until the end. No point worrying about it now.

Eventually they made their way back to their base. Actor headed to Garrison's office to let him know they had returned and for word about Goniff. Chief went directly to the room Goniff had been recovering in. As he pushed open the door his eyes went to the floor. The blood had been cleaned up. A quick look to the bed showed the sleeping figure. Quietly he slipped up to the side of the bed. Goniff was lying on his side slightly curled. He did not look well. Chief leaned in and smelled the same odour. It was stronger now and Goniff was hot. He had a fever. Pivoting on his heel he hurried out the door and down to Garrison's office.

"Goniff's sick. You gotta do somethin'. Ya gotta take him to the hospital." Both men had stopped to look when he burst in. Now they rose and Garrison grabbed his coat. Chief grabbed the keys that his Hearth tossed to him as the other two ran upstairs.

Chief had the car pulled around in front as the door opened and two figures came out carrying the third. A fourth man ran ahead and opened the vehicle door. Not bothering with speed limits, signals or courtesy Chief had them at the hospital door in record time. Goniff was rushed in and the others were left to wait.

They had questions but no one spoke. The questions were for the doctor who maddeningly refused to appear. Casino paced then Garrison joined him. Chief went outside to silently ask for help from the white man's god. He did not believe but figured it could not hurt to try. Maybe their god did not listen to Guardians but he had to try. All the while he kept an ear on Garrison's heartbeat. It was a little fast but he knew when the Doctor arrived it would get even faster. He waited until he could not stand it and he returned to the waiting room. More waiting. Such was their concern that when a young woman came in to see if anyone wanted coffee or a biscuit, not even Actor reacted.

Finally the Doctor came into the room as he buttoned his white coat. "Lieutenant Garrison?" he asked settling on the correct man. "Your man is in Recovery. He'll be…"

"Recovery?" queried three voices.

"Acute appendicitis. It's a good thing you brought him in when you did. It burst as we were taking it out. We got him all cleaned and he should make a full recovery."

"When can we see'm?"

"Give us an hour and he should be on the ward. Go get yourself something to eat. He should be ready by then but only one person. He needs to rest."

There was a chorus of thank you's and the four men headed for the cafeteria.

"How'd you know?" asked Casino as they all sat with their trays.

"He smelled sick." He did not want to admit he had suspected this morning and had still gone off to London and he held his breath, fearing Actor would tell. He did not. His secret was safe. He had failed Goniff again. At least this time he had come back in time. Goniff was right, he had left him again. Why had he done that? He should have told Garrison right then but he hadn't. He was not a good friend, not even a good team mate. Maybe he should tell Garrison what he had done.

As if reading his thoughts Garrison said, "It's a good thing you noticed and came and told me. You saved his life."

But he hadn't. The guilt was consuming him. He had known and done nothing. He had put his own pleasure ahead of Goniff's life. Even if the pleasure had been pure torture it was still the fact he had gone off to London leaving a sick man to almost die. What if the train had been delayed even more? He would have died. He was guilty of deserting him again. He promised himself that he would not leave again.

Garrison was the only one admitted in to see the patient. When he returned the others wanted details. "He's resting comfortably and no, he didn't say anything. They've got him sedated. We'll come back tomorrow."

They filed out with only a few backward glances. The return trip was slower but just as quiet. They were all imagining what it would have been like if they hadn't got him there on time. The team wouldn't be the same without him. Casino was considering what he could bring him when they came tomorrow. Flowers were the only thing he could come up with. Could you eat chocolates after surgery? What if he couldn't eat? He had to grimace at the thought of Goniff not being allowed to eat. Poor guy. Just the thought of Goniff in that much pain brought an ache to their hearts.

The morning dawned clear. Even the appearance of the sun, when it rose, heartened the men. Breakfast was a hurried affair until Garrison spoke. "I don't know what the rush is. Visiting hours don't start until ten." He consulted his watch. "You have almost two hours."

When they were finally admitted to the ward Goniff was laying back against the propped up head of the bed, eyes closed. They approached quietly and waited for him to open his eyes. He did not look good. The bruises from his incarceration were fading and the swelling was almost gone but there was a tightness about his eyes and he was as white as the sheets.

Finally the blue eyes opened and he smiled a weak smile.

"Good morning Goniff. How're you feeling?"

"I don' know." His words were slurred from the sedative he had been given. "What 'appened? I'm not at 'ome, am I?"

"You had acute appendicitis."

"A cute what?" He sounded serious but they saw the twinkle in his eye.

Goniff kept drifting off so they did not stay long. It was enough to just see their team mate and know that he was going to be all right. Chief was especially relieved.

Back at their base Garrison had caught Chief's eye and nodded to his office. He waited until he entered and then closed the door.

With the guilt of leaving him weighing so heavily on his mind Chief thought that this was it. Garrison was going to punish him. He kept his eyes downcast waiting for the blow.

If Garrison noticed he did not say instead he headed for his desk and pulled out a bottle and two glasses. After pouring two shots he handed one to the Indian. A confused Chief took the glass.

"Thank you, Chief." He had to have seen the frown of confusion but again he said nothing. "I should have noticed that Goniff wasn't right. I thought it was just his injuries making him so tired. I gave him the extra medication when he said he was in pain. I should have noticed. I didn't and it almost cost him his life. Thank you for looking out for him and checking on him. You saved his life."

"No, I didn't," he said anguish clear in his voice. "I almost killed him again." He wanted to kneel and ask forgiveness but a word from his Hearth stopped him.

"Don't."

He hesitated a moment then spoke determined to expose his guilt. "I smelled it this morning and I said nothing."

"You knew he was sick?" Garrison was questioning not accusing.

"No, not sick. I smell something but I didn't know what it was. I wanted to tell you," his voice was strong but then tapered off meekly, "but I was afraid."

"You're afraid to talk to me?" Again it was just a question.

"I was afraid you'd think it was stupid, that I didn't know what I was talking about. I ain't a doctor. I didn't want you to think I was…" he stopped abruptly.

"You were what?"

There was a long silence broken by Garrison's, "Drink up." He hoped it would relax the man enough that he could get to the truth. Chief was consumed with guilt which Garrison knew from past episodes was not always deserved. The Indian complied. Garrison asked the question again even more gently. "You didn't want me to think you were what?"

Chief knew he had to explain. It was bad enough knowing but now he had to put it into words. As long as no one mentioned it then it wasn't real, it wasn't true. He had to make it real. His shoulders sank and his head went down.

"Guardians are …, we're not good enough, we have no right to tell real people what… to… I yelled at you. You're within your rights to beat me." He put the glass down on the desk with a shaking hand and waited.

"Chief," said Garrison gently. "Look at me."

Chief shook his head. "I have no right."

"Look at me." His tone was firm, his command voice. Garrison could see the conflict between obedience and fear. "As your Hearth," and he stepped closer and lowered his voice, "I ask you to look me in the eye."

It was almost painful to watch but eventually the Guardian complied. From the tension he knew that one sudden movement and the Guardian would be on the floor. "As your Hearth, I swear on everything I hold dear, that I will never beat you. Do you hear me? Never. No matter what you do, I will never raise a hand to you. Do you understand?"

Chief's mouth had fallen open in an attempt to get enough air into his lungs. He was so tense it made breathing difficult so it took a moment for what his Hearth had said to register. He would not beat him. He would not…

Carefully the Officer poured another shot into each glass, replaced the bottle and picked up his glass. Holding the vessel up he said, "To my friend," and he waited.

Chief was confused at first then he picked up his glass and said tentatively, "To my friend."

"Say it like you mean it, Chief," he said with a smile.

Chief took a shaky breathe, released it and said, stronger, "To my friend." They both drank. Chief reached out to put the glass down but Garrison told him to go ahead and drink it. He did, maybe a little too quickly because it began to feel the effects of the alcohol. When the phone rang he took the glass and headed for the back door. He went out and sat on the step and tossed back the last of the fiery liquid. He had a lot to think about. Goniff was going to be all right. He had fucked up by leaving but Garrison wasn't mad at him about it. Twice he had almost gotten him killed and Garrison still called him friend. His Hearth called him friend. It felt good. Could he really believe it? His Hearth…

Three days later Goniff came home and everyone turned out to welcome him, even Chief. The Englishman was so glad to be home that he told them he did not want to sleep in that fancy room with its 'too soft bed' that he wanted to sleep with his 'mates' in their room. By now his ankle was much improved and he occasionally used a cane, especially when Garrison was around. He figured that his injury might buy them some time off and for a time it worked at least against overseas missions. It could not prevent danger coming to them.


	8. Chapter 8

Judgement Call

Chapter 8

Two days later Garrison had scheduled a practice break in using the local vicarage, with the vicar's permission of course. The old building was typical of the many fine buildings of Europe so it would be a good test of their abilities. For his safety the Vicar was asked to not be home during the planned break in. Garrison had sat outside in the jeep timing their progress.

On their way back to their base Casino explained how they found the caretaker and instead of trying the safe they had roughed him up and got him to open it.

"You shoulda seen how scared 'e was after Casino 'it 'im," laughed Goniff.

"What?" bellowed Garrison as he slammed on the brakes almost sliding the jeep into the hedge. "This was supposed to be a practice. You weren't supposed to do any damage and that includes hurting anyone." Frantically he cranked the wheel and floored the gas swinging the jeep around and accelerated back the way they had come.

"Warden," tried Actor, but there was no reaction. Even putting his hand on the driver's arm brought no response.

"We are not serious."

"There is no caretaker. You just hit…" He took his foot off the gas and without turning he said angrily, "You are not serious."

"No. We are not serious about hitting the vicar. We are serious that he was there and I am afraid that we found him in the bath. He was very apologetic after he got over his fright. It seems he thought the practice was scheduled for tomorrow."

"He is uninjured," stated the Officer and then he turned to glare over his shoulder at the men of his team. They were grinning, pleased at having conned the Warden. "Get out!" He turned back and stared out the windshield, his body held stiff with anger.

"Ah, Warden, we were just 'aving a bit of fun. No 'arm done."

"Now!"

His tone sobered them and they climbed out silently. The jeep sped off as soon as they were out.

"What's up his ass?" asked Casino as he watched the jeep disappear down the road. "So what's he expect us to do, walk back?"

"I expect so," said Actor as he took out his pipe and began filling it.

"So, we going?" asked Goniff eyeing the distance they had to go?

"No,"

"No?"

Actor shook out the match and then dropped it before drawing on his pipe and crushing the match with his shoe for good measure. "When have we ever done as we were expected?" That earned smiles all around.

"Least 'e coulda done was drop us somewhere there was to sit, or better yet by a pub."

They waited twenty minutes before the jeep returned at a sedate speed slowing and stopping beside them. Garrison turned and glared at them.

"You were right, Actor. 'E wasn't serious about us 'aving to walk all the way 'ome, were you Warden?"

"I am serious about not doing damage or hurting civilians or taking stuff." Garrison zeroed in on the Englishman and held out his open hand palm up.

"What? I didn't take it, I swear. You all saw me," he said plaintively as he looked to each of his team mates. "I picked it up and looked at it but I swear I put it back. Stealing from the church'll get you sent straight to 'ell. Tell'm guys," he pleaded.

"Did you put it back exactly where you got it?" asked Garrison eyeing the accused.

"Yeah, well, no. I took it and showed Actor. I might a put it down in the wrong place but I swear I didn't take it. Honest to God."

"When we get to our base I want you to phone the Vicar and tell him exactly where you put it and apologize for touching it."

"I will. I'll do it straight away," he said eagerly.

Garrison told them to get in and he smiled to himself as he put the jeep in gear and released the clutch. He had gone back to reassure himself that no harm had been done. His men were not bad men but like children sometimes they got carried away. Besides he was not above giving the cons a taste of their own medicine. While he was there he had asked the Vicar, an elderly man, to look around to make sure nothing was damaged or missing. The Vicar had brushed him off at first, trusting the fine young men who were fighting for his country. The Officer insisted and when he had checked he had noticed the figurine of the Madonna that had stood on his desk was missing. It was not the monetary value but a sentimental piece; one of the Sunday school children had made it and given it to him. He had found it moments later on the book shelf. The Vicar had laughed about it saying his housekeep who was nearly as old as he was probably moved it. Garrison knew better.

As the jeep pulled into the driveway and rounded the bend they saw they had company. It was a civilian car so they sighed in relief. They were not going to be briefed for another mission.

The Sargent Major met them at the door and asked how the training had gone. Hearing the affirmative he went on to tell Garrison that he had a visitor in his office. The cons headed upstairs to their room and the Officer went to see what trouble the cons had gotten into this time.

"Lieutenant Garrison?"

The accent said American so it was probably not something the cons had done. That was good news.

"My name is Mr. Douglas Hughes and I am a Senior Administrator for the Guardian Control and Training Institute."

Garrison froze. That was not good news.

"Our records indicate you are in possession of one of our Guardians."

Fear was clawing its way up his throat. Was Chief listening?

"I am here," he continued, "investigating an incident that occurred in Italy involving this piece of our property. I have questions that need answering so I will require its presence." He stood waiting as if he expected immediate acknowledgement and action.

"I am sorry but I am not at liberty to divulge any information… Nor is the Guardian."

"This is separate. One of our Lead Trainers wanted to know at what distance a Guardian can sense his Handler. That was why he was sent on this mission."

"So there never was a traitor. This was all a set up." They knew it was but he wanted confirmation.

"Oh no, there was a traitor. Hayden wanted to know so he asked to be there."

"That means my men were sent in to test that theory."

No," he lied again. "It was just a coincidence that they happened to be sent near there."

"A coincidence?" he asked suspiciously. "How else was the test to be carried out if my Guardian was not sent there as well? Was Shaffer in on it too?"

"No." He tried to sound derisive but he was flustered. "That is not important. Shaffer was sent because he knew the radio that was supposed to be handed off to a new agent. A hand off that never happened, I hear," he accused trying to deflect Garrison's accusations.

"Mr. Hughes. That whole mission stinks. I'm sent on a phony mission and then my men are sent on another phony mission with a man with no training just to test a theory. The theory failed but the worst of it was a good man died for nothing."

"I want to see the Guardian and the man who led the rest of your team." Hughes fell back on his authority.

"What do you hope to find out?" He was stalling while he tried to figure out what he could do. First he needed information.

"I just told you. I am ordering you to produce our property."

"You are ordering me?" He paused for effect. "I will need to see those orders."

"Don't try to pull that on me." His bluff called he dropped the orders and turned to sarcasm. "That Rogue belongs to the Institute. It is merely on loan to the Army for the time being. I demand to see my property."

Garrison stood firm. He knew he was on shaky ground with who actually controlled the Guardian. The way he understood it, the Guardian was under his control while they were on a mission but at home it was a grey area.

"I am not leaving," said Hughes petulantly, "Until I get what I came for even if it means going over your head. Way over your head."

That was not much of a threat to Garrison. By the time he got those orders Chief would be gone. He would be in trouble for not having control of his men but then the brass were continually surprised he still had control as it was.

On the other hand there was not a lot he could do. From the sound of it the pompous ass had just wanted to see Chief. If he tried to take him, then that was another matter.

"Wait here, I'll get him."

"And I want to speak with whoever was in charge on that mission, alone."

Garrison took the steps two at a time all the while considering how he was going to break this to the guys and especially Chief. If he decided to bolt would he stop him?

Opening the door he stepped in and closed the door behind him. That got the cons attention.

"What's going on Warden?" asked Casino they all saw the worried look.

"Just listen." He eyed each one to be sure they understood. The man down stairs is from G-CAT." The only sound was a collective gasp and the sound of Chief jumping up from his cot.

"Chief," he took a step closer and his heart sank when the Guardian took a step back closer to the window. "I will not let him take you. So far all he wants to do is see you. He's investigating our last trip to Italy. This may be our chance to find out who sent us on those phony missions. This could be our proof that G-CAT has infiltrated the Army. We need to know who is involved so we can be prepared. All I'm asking is that you trust me. Come down with me and act like you're drugged. I'll do the talking."

"We'll all go," said Casino with finality.

"No. We give him what he wants, make him think we're complying and that way we have a better chance to get what we want; information." He turned back to the Guardian. "Trust me Chief. I'll protect you in the room with him and the guys will be waiting outside if he tries to take you."

"Damn right we will be," said Casino as he smacked his fist into his other hand.

Garrison continued. "We will not let him take you. One way or the other you stay with us. All right?

"He also wants to talk to you," he said to Actor. "He wanted to talk to you alone but I told him no."

Actor did not have to speak; he just raised an eyebrow. Garrison did not trust him?

With a guilty smile the Officer said, "He pissed me off so to return the favor I denied him what he wanted. Told him it was for security."

Actor's smile was genuine pleased.

Chief would be lying if he said he wasn't scared. Just the sound of those cursed letters was enough to send him into flight mode. He could trust Garrison, couldn't he? And the guys? Garrison would be breaking the law if he tried to stop G-CAT but the guys? They wouldn't care. They would help him. He looked to each one and saw the determination on their faces.

"Trust me, kid, he ain't leaving here with you. He goes, you stay." The determination in his voice tipped the scales in Garrison's favour.

Chief took a shaky breath and stepped forward. "All right." Then unsteadily he added, "What about the drugs?"

"Can you fake it?"

Could he? What if he… "As long as he doesn't…" he shuddered, "touch me."

The three men headed down the hall, Garrison in the lead, the Guardian behind his shoulder and Actor bringing up the rear. Actor watched the change as Chief morphed into the Guardian. His shoulders slumped, his back bent and his stride shortened. Lastly his head tipped down.

No one spoke until they neared the office. Chief reached out and clasped his Handler's arm causing him to stop. Afraid of being overheard he just pointed to his neck and then drew his thumb and index finger, held two inches apart, across his throat.

Garrison understood. His Guardian was not wearing the mandatory collar, the one that was in the bottom drawer of his desk. There was no way to get it now. He would have to come up with a cover. With a nod he walked into his office.

Lieutenant Garrison went and stood by his desk; sitting would have necessitated Chief kneeling. Chief stood behind his shoulder.

"Guardian, Come."

"No." Garrison raised his arm blocking the Guardian from moving. "He stays here."

"What?" said Hughes in shock. "I'm ordering it. And where is it's collar. It is mandatory for it to wear the collar **at all times**."

"Mr. Hughes," said Garrison in his command, 'don't piss me off' voice. "This Guardian has been trained to obey me and only me. For our purposes I cannot have him obey anyone else. He does not wear the collar so when we go into battle the enemy cannot identify him or his value. The Army cannot afford to lose even one to the enemy."

That stopped the Administrator. It rankled him that anyone dared to talk to him, a Senior Administrator, with that tone, but what he said was true. Guardians were stupid but they were valuable. Besides if the Germans got their hands on one and figured out how to breed them then G-CAT would lose their monopoly.

"This is Actor," said the Lieutenant. "Because of the work we do, my men go by code names only, no rank, no last names. Actor was in charge of that particular mission. Go ahead and ask your questions."

"Actor," said Hughes stiffly. He did not like being dictated to and he did not like this man's attitude. He was not showing the proper respect for him. It was not blatant but he thought he saw contempt.

"What training have you had in working a Guardian?"

"Lieutenant Garrison is the only one trained to work the Guardian but because I am his second in command I have observed and the Lieutenant has explained some of the details."

"So you cannot actually work a Guardian."

"No." If he was hoping for shame or despondence he was disappointed. Actor was simply stating a fact.

"Are you saying that you took a Rogue with you, by your own admission, without the collar or leash, to an uncontrolled environment?"

"If you are asking, did we take the Guardian with us, yes we did."

"And how did you control it?" Hughes was clearly shocked at this revelation.

"I do not understand."

Hughes blustered, "How… How did you get it to obey? Did you use the commands? Did you have to beat it?"

The three men realized he was revealing too much. Actor was going to have to cover. Fortunately he was used to thinking on his feet. "Lieutenant Garrison has worked extensively with the Guardian. He has trained him to obey him. He has also trained him to follow us if he is not in the vicinity. I assume he instructed him to follow me before he left on his mission. It has happened before."

"So Garrison tells it to obey you and it does. What about the scans?"

"He only works with the Lieutenant."

"So, on this trip he was useless."

"Absolutely, not. The Guardian has been trained to be our look out. He has learned to be alert and to notify the Lieutenant or myself if there is any danger. He is very good at it."

"At what point did he detect Garrison's whereabouts?"

"Detect? I am sorry but I do not understand. We were not looking for the Lieutenant."

Hughes was getting frustrated. "When it knew it's Handler was close," he explained angrily. "When did it tell you?"

"He did not tell us any such thing," said the con man emphatically.

"It didn't tell you, it just led you to him?" he suggested hopefully.

"No, he did not. At no time did he indicate that Garrison was anywhere in the vicinity."

"But it took you right to him?" he said in exasperation. "It must have indicated somehow. When did it indicate? How far away were you?"

"No. He did not." Actor could see that Hughes was getting angry. If that was their sole purpose then he would be triumphant but what he wanted was answers of his own and for that he had to change tact. He had to go on the offensive.

"The Lieutenant has never said anything to me about Guardians being able to find their Handler. If I had known that then I could have asked him but our mission while in Italy…"

"It is a theory," interrupted the frustrated man, "that Guardians can find their Handlers from a distance. Haydon was trying to prove that theory by…" He stopped when he realized he was revealing too much. "It was his theory," he added shifting the blame to the dead man's shoulders.

"So how was it that it took you right to him?" he asked.

"Not long before we left Sicily one of our team determined that we were being followed. Since we did not know who they were, we took evasive action. We were successful but they showed up again in Italy. This was suspicious so we followed them. When we breeched their home base the Lieutenant was there. That was the only reason we found him. The Guardian was as surprised as we were."

"You're sure he was surprised? They're sneaky little bastards."

"I saw his face," interupted Garrison. "He was surprised."

Hughes looked disappointed and defeated. Then in anger he took a step closer to Chief. "Tell it, down," he commanded.

"For what reason?"

"I'll ask it. The drug makes it incapable of lying," he said snidely.

Garrison considered for a moment then said, "Guardian, down." Chief went to his knees. "Guardian, when did you know I was in that building in Italy?"

"Permission to speak, Handler."

"Permission granted. When did you know I was in there?"

"When I saw you." Chief spoke slowly imitating the speech of a drugged Guardian.

"Not before? Did you know I was there before you came in?"

"No."

Garrison turned to Hughes and said, "There's your answer. Satisfied?"

Hughes was angry. He had hoped to get the proof that Haydon was after and with that weasel out of the way he could take credit for the discovery. He had failed and he did not like the taste of defeat.

"Guardian!"

"I will do the asking," reminded Garrison maintaining his authority.

"I want to know what happened to Haydon."

"It's all in the debriefing report," said Garrison. Did G-CAT have access to that? They were about to find out.

"I want to hear it from that," he said angrily pointing to the kneeling man. "I want the truth."

That was their answer. For him to have read it that meant he had the security clearance to access their reports. G-CAT was right in there, hand in hand with the Army. In this case he did not believe the report. Because they had been sent on separate missions that meant they would be debriefed separately. Their stories had to match so on their way home they had discussed what they would say. Chief would know how to answer.

"Guardian, what happened to Haydon?"

"He died."

"I know that, you stupid… I meant how! Who killed him?" Hughes demanded.

"Guardian, why did someone kill Haydon?" He knew the why was more important than the who.

"He put a gun to Handler's head. Must protect Handler."

"It killed him!" shouted Hughes finally finding an outlet for his anger and frustration. "Murdering bastard. I'll see you dead."

"He did not kill him," stated Garrison emphatically.

"It just said it did."

"He did not have a gun. He could not have shot him."

"But… Then, who did?"

"One of my men did. They are all trained and authorized to protect me and each other. The same result would have happened no matter who he put a gun to. You threaten one," he said, looking Hughes directly in the eye, "and you face the consequences."

He waited then said, "Is that all?"

"Why would Haydon put a gun to your head?"

"He was asking the same questions you were," explained the Officer. "He wanted to know when Chief detected me and he said nothing, as I have trained him to do. Haydon got angry and hoped to get his answer by threatening me. That was his mistake. Later when I asked about it, the shooter said he aimed to injure him but he moved at the last second. The shot killed him."

"So where is the body? Why didn't you bring it back with you?"

"Deep in enemy territory we do not have the facilities to bring a body out with us. We had to leave it behind." There was no regret in his voice.

"And what am I to tell his widow and children?"

Garrison just stood there looking at him. He did not care what they told her. She might be a nice person but unfortunately she was tainted by her association with the evils of G-CAT.

Hughes looks angry and disappointed. "I want to set up another test."

"No. We have training to do for our work for the Army. I need him in top condition and that means the Army training and rest only. There will be no more tests. You have your answer. Guardians cannot locate their Handler once they are out of earshot."

Garrison was watching closely so he saw the grimace that preceded an attack. "Guardian stand," he said as he stepped into Hughes face. "You touch him and you will face the consequences."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Lieutenant Garrison does not make threats," intoned Actor.

Foiled again, the Senior Administrator fell back on an old routine, one he knew they could not counter. "You had no authority to change it's training in any way. Once the war is over it will have to be retrained right from basic. You've ruined a perfectly good Guardian with your interference," he said petulantly.

"I heard," said Actor conversationally, "that he was labelled Rogue and slated for elimination or was it research," he added with a frown of concentration. "Live vivisection, I believe was the term." He cocked an inquiring, 'dare you to deny, eyebrow at the most hated man in the room.

Hughes fumed then turned and walked out. Garrison followed to make sure he left. He did, with a flurry of gravel. When he returned to his office the other two had joined them. He heard Chief ask, "What's vivid section?" His voice was shaking.

"I made that part up, Chief. I did see your file and it said you were Rogue. I just extrapolated. I came up with the worst possible fate. I am sorry that you heard that but I had to deflate his bluff."

"Do you think he bought it?" asked Garrison to change the subject. He did not want Chief to dwell on what else was in his file.

"Yes, he bought it or he would not have been so angry." The G-CAT Senior Administrator had bought the lie but they knew the truth. Actor was also relieved that Garrison had changed the subject. He had just barefaced lied to a friend, a man who was maybe just starting to trust him. If he found out the truth it could destroy that trust, a trust he very much wanted.

"Warden? I need you and the rest of the guys," and he turned to eye them all, "ta promise me somethin'." He sounded worried.

"What is it Chief," asked Actor. He thought he knew but he would wait.

"When the war's over, that someone'll give me a gun." No one spoke. "Before they take me back," he added quietly.

"Better still," said Casino, "We'll give you a ticket to freedom. You are not going back to that hell hole even if the Warden doesn't help you, we will. You can count on that."

"We," and he emphasized the word, "We all will help you. You won't need a gun."

The silence was a comfortable one. Chief had hope; he had friends who would help him. He had a chance.

"By the way, Warden, did you ever hear from your friend at the airbase?" asked Actor.

"Yeah. He called the morning you went to London. He just wanted to let me know that he hadn't heard from anyone but he'll keep the bottle just in case."

"Too bad it's not here, we could drink it." said Casino. "I'll bet Chief could do with a drink."

"Good thing it's not 'ere or we would drink it. Speaking of drinking…" said Goniff.

"Excellent idea. Seeing as there is nothing to drink here, shall we all go down to the Doves?" asked Actor with a grin. "All of us?" he added making sure that Garrison knew they wanted him there.

"Splendid idea," said Goniff whose grin was even broader."


End file.
